


Words of Good Cheer

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Advent Challenge, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, De-aged Shiro (Volron), F/M, Gen, Hypothermia, M/M, Multi, Sharing Body Heat, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Snow Angels, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: 12 days of Advent fics for the winter season1) The gang gets stuck in their cabin on vacation (Modern AU)2) The lights and noise of the holiday party prove to be overwhelming for Shiro3) Ryou and Lance attempt to make Hunk a treat.4) Shatt - Shiro and Matt get their Christmas snuggle on5) Shallura - Shiro shows Allura how to make snow angels6) Sheith - Shiro falls through the ice on a snowy planet and needs to be warmed up7) Alone at the Garrison over break, Keith and Shiro work together to ignore the holiday8) Shunkeith - Sweet Tooth AU, Hunk has to stay over when they're snowed in9)Baby'sRyou's first Christmas10) Old Friend's Senior Sanctuary AU - Lance convinced Shiro to help make a 2018 calendar for charity11) Ryou disappears on an ice planet and Shiro fears the worst12) Smol!Shiro worries how Santa will find the castle





	1. Modern AU - Trapped in a cabin

"There," Shiro declared, pulling off his gloves and hat.  He spent several minutes stomping in place, getting the last of the snow off his boots.  "That should hold us for a little while."

Hunk looked up from he'd been fiddling with their radio.  It worked, but just barely, so he'd taken it apart to reattach the wires.  It was taking way more tape than he'd normally be comfortable with, because it wasn't like they had proper equipment, but at least it wouldn't completely break if someone set it down too hard.  "We have wood?"

Shaking snow free of his hair, Keith nodded.  "Yeah.  There was a ton under the tarps out back, and more supplies in that little basement.  Wouldn't be enough to get someone through the whole winter, but we'll be good for a week or so.  Longer with the food we have.  And if we need to hunt, if it comes to that."

Lance perked from where was still parked in front of the iron stove.  "I told you bringing the bow and arrow was a good idea!  I told everyone!"

"You still have to be able to hit something, first," Pidge offered.  She didn't even look up from where she was carefully taking note of every can and bit of food in the kitchen.  Next to her was a write up of about how many calories each of them would need per day that Hunk had helped her with.

It was, perhaps, going a little far.  But, well, Hunk had needed something to do.

Because they were snowed it.  Badly.  For at least a few days, according to the ranger they'd managed to contact.  A week at worst, but Hunk wasn't inclined to trust that.  They couldn't be sure the snow would end when they thought, and that they could get all the equipment to clear the road up in time, and-

Shivering, Hunk pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

This was not how he wanted to spend his vacation.  Honestly, he'd been with Lance.  Go to a hotel in some nice tourist area.  Preferably somewhere warm.  But they'd been overruled: Allura wanted adventure, Pidge wanted cold, Keith wanted natural, and Shiro had wanted anything-but-touristy.  Four against two had been a sound loss.

It was kind of killing Hunk not to say 'I told you so'.

But he'd told them so.

"Either way, we're definitely stuck in here for the next while," Shiro said.  He carefully hung up his jacket and stacked his boots next to the door.  "Have you found anything interesting inside?"

Hunk pointed to the small stack of items next to the couch.  "A few things.  Flashlights, batteries, matches, knives.  Tool kit."  He pointed to the one next to him, which was one of the old, giant cases with the literal red case.  It was modestly stocked with a few essentials, but nothing as in depth as Hunk or Pidge's personal kits.  Still, better to have an extra hammer than not.  

Stepping back into the room, Allura held up several sticks she'd dragged inside, neatly carved so all the smaller branches were tone.  On the end, she'd tied string and hooks.  "If we think we're going to need more food, we're best starting sooner rather than later, yes?"

"I guess," Keith replied.  "But if we're not in danger, I'm not sure sitting around outside in the cold is a great idea, either.  No sense anyone getting hurt when we're only going to be here a few days."

"We think," Hunk muttered, unable to help himself.

Immediately, visibly, Shiro drew himself up into Leader Mode.  "Of course we will.  Hell, we have compasses and boots.  If we're really in that bad a position, we know exactly where town is.  We could get down the mountain in a day.  Two if we took it slowly.  We still have all our sleeping backs and tests."

Lance's mouth feel open, and he pulled his blanket up higher.  "No.  Uh-oh.  I will die in this cabin before I take my chances out there.  It's cold!"

"It's not that bad," Pidge shot back.

Making a face, Lance burrowed in further.  "You were broken as a child by the Canadian winter.  You don't know any better."

"You're just a wimp."

Shiro sighed.  "Both of you, please.  I know the situation isn't good, but we don't need to argue."

Nodding, Allura planted her impromptu fishing rod against the floor.  "Agreed.  right now we are still in a fine position.  It might not be the most enjoyable way we've spent an evening, but we're capable adults, many of whom have survival training."

"Exactly."  Shiro inclined his head to her.  "We'll make it through perfectly comfortably if we just keep our heads.  How about we spend tonight enjoying our vacation?"

Holding up one of the cans, Pidge shrugged.  "I still suggest we ration just in case, but we're honestly pretty good on snacks.  Between Lance, Hunk and me, we brought enough snacks to get us through a week.  Not the most healthy week, but all of us have survived worse."

"Don't remind me," Hunk sighed.  But he slowly relaxed, at least a little soothed by how confident everyone seemed.  It was an awful situation, but everyone else seemed to think they were fine. 

Keith stepped over to the pile and dug through, then picked up a deck of cards.  "We could play a game.  I'm not sure if we want to stay up and run the lanterns too long."

Shaking her head, Allura pointed to another stack on the counter.  "No, we have plenty of batteries.  The cabin had several that Lance tested, and they all seem to have at least some power, and we brought our own.  Light won't be a problem.  Poker would be a fine way to spend some time."  She grinned at them, shark-like.

"Can I at least change before we bring the cabin down around us?" Shiro asked flatly.  "You'd think we'd learn or something."  Shaking his head, he started for his room.

Keith eyed Allura, then pulled out a chair at the table.  "I'm in for poker, sure."

"I call dealer," Lance said, hoping up and trailing his blanket behind him like a bridal train.  "I refuse to be part of this, but I'll happily watch you all suffer."

Pidge smirked.  "Wise man.  Knows when he'll lose."

Bristling, Lance took a deep breath and visibly resisted rising to the obvious bait.

"Yeah, I'm going to change too."  They'd been hiking through the woods in these clothes.  Without running water and heat, washing was going to be complicated, so Hunk would rather be in something comfortable.  His pajamas would do.

With that, Hunk followed Shiro to the main bedroom, only to find him pulling out one of the flashlights.  Pausing, he glanced at the window.  "It's not that dark yet."

Glancing up, Shiro flapped a hand.  "I think my keys fell behind the bed.  I know we're not going anywhere anytime soon, but I'd rather not be looking for them when we do need them."

That was wise, so Hunk nodded his understanding and left Shiro to it.  Instead he turned his back to dig his pajamas out from his suitcase.  While he was here, he might as well unpack, too...

Hunk was halfway through getting off his shirt when Shiro screamed.

Starting a good foot in the area, Hunk whirled around.  "What?  What's wrong?"

Before Shiro could do more than look over, something darted out from under the bed and streaked away.  It came toward Hunk, who let out a yelp of his own.  Then it made a sharp turn and ducked under the dresser instead.

There was thumping outside, and the door swung open.  Keith frowned at them both, his knife already in his hand.  "What happened?"

Shiro looked up at Keith, eyes huge and unusually ruffled.  "There was a mouse!"

Keith stared back, then dropped his arm.  "That's it?"

"It was a mouse!  Under my bed!"

Rolling his eyes, Keith sheathed his knife back on his belt.  "Yeah, it's warm in here and cold out there.  I'm sure stuff's going to try and get in.  I thought you'd died, Shiro."

Shiro's jaw set.  "It could have bit me."

"You'd live."  Keith shook his head, somewhere between fond and exacerbated.  "You're such a city boy.  Just an hour ago you were talking about befriending the wolves, but one little mouse turns you into a human in a Tom and Jerry cartoon."

Watching the byplay with growing amusement, Hunk pointed to the dresser.  "It went under there.  We should probably do something about it before it gets into the food or something."

Sticking her head in, Allura started to move toward the mouse's hiding hole.  "Aww, we can't put the poor thing back outside.  It'll freeze to death."

"It's a mouse, it'll be fine," Keith shot back.  "This isn't a pet, Allura.  It doesn't have shots."

"I know how to handle mice."

"It still can't stay here!"  Keith groaned and turned.  "I'll get something to catch it with.  Then it goes outside."

From the stubborn set of Allura's jaw, they'd be seeing about that.

As she got closer, there was another blur of gray-brown motion, and this time Shiro jumped up and darted out of the way. He moved so fast he nearly teleported, ending up on Hunk's other side.

Allura blinked after it, frowning. "This may be more difficult than I expected."

"How about we leave you and Keith to it," Hunk offered.  He patted Shiro on the shoulder, pausing when he realized he was shaking slightly.  "Shiro and I will finish changing in peace."

With that, Hunk ushered Shiro out, snatching up his carefully folded clothes before they left.  The other bedroom was empty, primarily taken up by Allura and Lance's combined suitcases.

Scrubbing over his face, Shiro took a deep breath then offered Hunk a smile.  "Sorry, that wasn't exactly dignified, was it?"

"I can't say I would have reacted better.  Something wild coming toward your face couldn't have been comforting."  Hunk patted Shiro in the middle of his back.  "You okay?"

Shiro sighed.  "Yes, I'm fine."  At Hunk's bland look, he shrugged.  "I am!  It's just... stressful.  I want to make sure everything is set as it can be.  I know we'll be fine.  There's not really a group I'd rather be trapped in the wilderness with.  I just feel bad our vacation turned out like this.  And I don't do so well with wild animals, yes."  His smile went sheepish.  "If it isn't supposed to be in an apartment, I've never dealt with it."

Lips curling up, Hunk eyed Shiro.  "You really are a city boy."

All he got was a shrug in return.

Hunk pulled Shiro in for a one-armed hug.  "You're doing a great job of keeping everyone organized and calm.  I feel better when you talk us through and remind us we'll be alright.  So you keep me calm about that, and I'll help keep the mean mice away from you.  How's that?"

Barking out a laugh, Shiro nodded and rested his head on Hunk's shoulder.  "Good plan."

"My plans are always good."  Hunk smiled down at him.  

"They are."  Shiro pulled himself back after a few moments, smoothing his bangs back down. "We should save the cuddling for when the sun goes down and it gets colder."

Hunk snorted.  "Cuddles aren't a limited resource, you know."

Flashing him another smile, Shiro nodded.  "True.  But we have poker to win.  There's no way I can let Keith win after teasing me about the mouse."

"He's making sure Allura doesn't raise an army of mice," Hunk pointed out.  "I think he gets a pass for a little teasing."

"If Allura makes a loyal mouse army, they can pull our van through the show like a demented husky sled."

Hunk blinked, then burst into laughter at the idea.  "You're right.  Keith is dooming our best plan."

Now outright grinning, Shiro nodded.  "We have to take all his pocket money in revenge."

It was silly, but that was the best antidote for anxiety.  Standing, Hunk grabbed his clothes.  "Then let's get started."

Maybe this would be a fun vacation after all.

(The beach still would have been better.)


	2. The lights and noise overwhelm Shiro

Pidge took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  The music pounded in her ears, and even behind her eyelids, she could tell how bright the lights were.

Really, she'd understood why.  Appreciated it, even.  Christmas had crept up on them so quickly after leaving, and most of them were hurting for home.  The louder, the brighter, the more distracting Christmas was, the harder it was to think about what they were missing.

Who they were missing.

It wasn't a proper holiday, not really.  Pidge and Hunk had rigged up a string of lights, but they hadn't been able to find a tree that looked like pine in time.  Instead they'd put it around a metal structure in the vague, tiered shape of a stereotypical tree.  That kind of worked, but the effect was lost.  The scent was, too.

They didn't have the right music, either.  They'd tried, and there had been an attempt at caroling, but only Hunk was really a singer.  Lance was tolerable, though Pidge was outright bad.  Keith had been so uncomfortable he'd been released from song duty, and Shiro had pointed out that he'd never celebrated Christmas.  Even if he'd spent his teenage years in the US, it wasn't a holiday he had a deep connection to.  They'd let him be after that.

Presents were a problem, too.  They could make some things, but for the most part their resources were limited to the castle.  With too few opportunities to sit down and actually try to make something, they'd just agreed to have the party be everyone's present.

So there were flashing lights, there was music that wasn't Christmas songs, there were drinks that weren't from Earth, there was noise and drinks and lights.

It didn't feel like Christmas at all.  It shouldn't.  A really traditional party would just hurt them all worse.  Pidge had thrown herself into the distractions just as much as Lance, trying to drown out the feeling of wrong.

But she couldn't run forever.

Swallowing hard, Pidge took a deep breath, trying to give herself distance between Lance and Hunk loudly telling some story from the Garrison ("So he tried to convince me to sneak out.  Which was a stupid idea!" "It was not!  How else were we supposed to have any fun?"), where Coran and Allura were trying their best to soothe the growing, manic discontent below the surface of the party, where Keith's quiet tension was threatening to turn into outright temper-

Wait.  Someone was missing.

Siding up to Keith, Pidge nudged him gently.  "Where'd Shiro get to?"

Keith frowned and glanced at the door.  "He said he was going to get a refill on his drink.  That was a while ago, though."

Huh.  Following Keith's gaze, Pidge nodded.  "I could use a drink too.  I'll see if I spot him on the way."

"I can go," Keith replied, making to stand.

But Pidge put her hand on his shoulder, keeping him down.  "I'm getting up anyway, don't worry about it.  If I can't find him, I'll let you know."  Shiro was probably fine.  Knowing him, he got distracted doing some kind of report or doing whatever work.  Pidge would just remind him that he was supposed to be at the party.  Hopefully his presence would be calming.  He had that effect, like a rock interrupting a fast-flowing stream and creating a still patch of water behind it.

Jaw working, Keith nodded reluctantly.  "Just let me know.  You can always call."  He nodded to the console on the wall.

And interrupt the party?  Hell no.  But it wouldn't come to that, so Pidge nodded.  "It'll probably be less than five minutes."  

With a last pat to his shoulder, Pidge slipped out of the room.  She took a deep breath, feeling oddly disconnected once the door was closed.  The voices and noise partly came through, but distantly, warped.  Like being underwater.  It made Pidge feel like the moment wasn't quite real.

Shaking her head, Pidge pushed away the odd sensation and started for the kitchen.  

On the way, she saw that one of the doors was just barely cracked up.  The area behind it was dark and quiet.

Huh.  Was this where Shiro had gone, or was one of the doors malfunctioning?  Pausing, she put her hand to the metal and pushed it to the side.  It moved smoothly, just barely illuminating the room in pale blue light.

Shiro was there, back pressed to the far wall and legs tucked up to his chest.  Both his arms were covering his head, fingers clutching at what strands of hair were long enough to hold.

He looked very small, somehow.

Stomach dropping, Pidge stepped closer, slow and careful.  Was Shiro having a flashback?  She'd seen him come back from those in a start, sometimes arm first.  She had no desire to get hit because she startled the poor guy, and it would only make him feel bad.

"Shiro?" She called softly, almost hesitantly.  "You okay?"

Shiro's head snapped up.  He stared at her, eyes wide and thankfully present.  He jumped to his feet all at once, one hand braced on the wall behind him and spine rod-straight.  "Pidge.  Sorry, I was just..."  He trailed off, visibly failing to come up with a good excuse.

Oh, boy.

"Flashback?" Pidge guessed.  "It's okay.  This is the castle so you're safe."

But Shiro pressed his lips thin, his shoulders tightening up to his jawline.  "I'm fine," he replied tightly.  "Not a flashback.  It's nothing to worry about.  Did you need something?"

Considering Shiro, Pidge swallowed hard.  "I don't like it either.  The party."

"You-"  Shiro paused, his expression softening.  "I guess you wouldn't.  I'm sorry, Pidge."

Pidge nodded, throat tight.  "Yeah.  It's not your fault.  You- you miss someone, too?  I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas."

"I don't," Shiro replied.  "In so much as anyone can't, in the US.  It's everywhere.  I don't object, it's just not mine.  I used to spend the day of watching movies, because TV was always filled with specials."  He took a deep breath and sighed.  "I don't- no.  It's not like that.  You don't need to worry about it."

Jaw setting, Pidge stared him down.  "Would you accept that from us?"

Shiro stared right back, gaze steady.  "I would.  I never want to push you guys to share more than you're comfortable with."

Dammit.  Pidge sighed and looked away.  "Fine.  Whatever.  You just- we know, okay?  That it's hard on you.  There's stuff you miss.  It's not wrong of us to confide in us once in awhile.  Makes it seem like you don’t trust us like we trust you."

Faltering, Shiro closed his eyes.  "It's not that I don't trust you.  It's that there's nothing you can do about it but feel bad.  Why would I want you guys to suffer too?"

"Because you're our friend and we care about you," Pidge pointed out.  "And that you're sitting alone in a dark room while we're having a party is going to make us feel bad.  You know that, right?"

"Well, you weren't supposed to find out," Shiro muttered, crossing his arms.

Pidge's brows rose.  "Good job."

Letting out a long sigh, Shiro shrugged.  "It's really not that big a deal.  I just needed a little while.  It's... loud.  Bright.  It wasn't starting flashbacks or anything like that, but it was just a lot to deal with.  So I came here for a few minutes to get away.  That's all."

Oh.  Pidge had no idea that lights and noise might bother Shiro when they’d planned this.  Maybe it was overwhelming, after spending so long on those cold, dark Galra ships.  That would make sense.

"I don't want to go back either," Pidge admitted, like the words were forcing their way out of her chest.  "Not for a little bit, anyway.  I was trying to get away.  Can we hide out together?"

Shiro paused, considering her.  "I don't know that I'll be very good company," he said.  "And I was looking for quiet, so I don't really want to talk."

Nodding, Pidge raised her head.  "I don't want to either.  I don't even want to think about everything.  I don't want it to be Christmas."  The words came from someplace deep and dark.  She didn't want there to be celebrations and fun and noise and lights.  It had been a fun distraction, but why was she celebrating?  How was it Christmas if her father and brother were still in Galra captivity?  What was today other than a painful date on the calendar?

The party was hopefully helping Lance and Hunk, and it made the Alteans feel like they were making the castle home.  That was all well and good.  Great for them.  But Pidge wasn't in the mood to pretend things were okay.  Today sucked, and she wanted to ignore it.

"Okay," Shiro replied, leaning back against the wall.  It looked like he was a second from sliding down it and curling back up.  "I- yeah.  Then fine.  That's fine."

For a long moment, they both stood there, not sure what to do with the other.  

Finally, Pidge glanced back at the door.  "If we turn off the lights in the rec room and put on a quiet movie, can we do what you usually do to ignore today?"

Shiro's lips quirked, the first hint of a smile.  "Yeah.  That's probably a better idea than sitting here and trying to talk myself into going back in."  He pushed off the wall, then hesitated.  "Can I say something awful?"

"Go for it."

"I'm kind of glad someone else isn't having a good time either," Shiro admitted.  "Misery loves company, I guess?  I want you to enjoy yourself, but... it's easier to not be the only one not having fun."

Pidge snorted.  "You should see Keith in there.  You are definitely not alone."

Pausing, Shiro considered.  "Oh.  Should we invite him to our Christmas-isn't-real party?"

Better than leaving him to suffer in that loud room.  Pidge nodded.  "Yeah.  I'll get him, okay?"

Shiro nodded, visibly relaxing.  "Yeah.  Good plan."

"Want to get blankets and get set up?"

This time, Shiro hesitated.  "I'll grab some for you two.  It's a bit much too, right now."

Blankets were too much?  Alright, sure, whatever it took.  Pidge nodded and slipped back into the room to go get Keith.

***

An hour later, they were curled contentedly on the couch. Pidge and Keith were in their own blankets, shoulder to shoulder on one side of the couch.  Shiro had taken up the other half, curled on his side and barefoot.

The sound of the movie was off, the characters acting out the dramatic scene in eerie silence.  They had subtitles on to be able to follow what little plot there was.  But really, nothing in the film was important.  What was important was that it didn't have anything to do with family or holidays or celebration.  Just the three of them in a quiet room.  Each of them needed the break for different reasons, same as some people needed the party and the dancing.

It worked for them.

And that made it perfect.

 


	3. Ryou and Lance make Hunk a cake

Ryou surveyed the spoils of their work, hands on his hips.  They'd completely raided the pantry for supplies, which had resulted in a small mountain of food stuffs.  Most of it, however, Ryou didn't recognize at all.  There was the milk, obviously, and the goo was always easy to pick out.  But the rest of it... Not so much.

There was some powdery stuff that looked like it might be flour... or maybe sugar.  Or salt?  Actually, there were a few powdery things, and Ryou couldn't tell what any of them were supposed to be by scent.  Some of the fruits he recognized, but that was about it. 

Apparently, Hunk must have gotten used to the Altean labeling system, because he hadn't bothered to change any of them.  Which made sense, because lots of the ingredients probably didn't have an Earth equal.  Even so, it was frustrating.

"You have any ideas?" Ryou asked.

Lance pressed his lips thin, clearly thinking it over.  "Well, I was thinking... well, I wasn't thinking.  There were a couple of dishes from home I was going to have us try, 'cause I at least have an idea of how to make them.  But not without the stuff."

Looking over their bounty again, Ryou nodded.  "We have some basic things, I think?" He offered.  "There has to be the standard ingredients for baking.  Hunk does it all the time."

Snapping his fingers, Lance pointed to him.  "Right.  Yes.  You're right.  We can do a cake for sure.  It's not what I was thinking, but Hunk loves cake.  Everyone loves cake!"

"And it's not that hard to make, right?  You just..." Ryou mimed mixing.  "Put it all together.  Butter and flour and milk.  Sugar.  Salt?  Baking... soda?"  Nose crinkling, Ryou tilted his head.  "I mostly made it out of a box."

Lance paused and stared at him.  "You've never made a cake from scratch?"

Shrugging, Ryou met his gaze.  "I mean, a couple of times, probably.  Not for a long time.  Heck, I mostly made, like, those powder things that go in the mugs and you add a little water or whatever?  Packaged mug cakes.  They were good, and I didn't have a ton of cake left over."  He paused, then groaned.  "Shiro didn't.  Whatever.  Ugh."

"We get it," Lance reminded him, patting Ryou on the shoulder.  "You or Shiro, that's still pretty sad.  Why'd you even agree to do this?"

Ryou's lips pressed thin.  "It's not sad.  It's smart.  I don't like wasting food by getting a big whole cake for just me when I won't eat it all.  So there.  And I offered because I wanted to help.   It's not like I could help you taste test, right?  But I can stir or whatever.  You just tell me if it tastes good."

Scrubbing over his face, Lance sighed.  "Alright, yeah.  Right, your taste thing."

"Yeah, that."

"Okay.  Okay, yeah.  We can do this.  We just have to figure out what's what."  Lance picked up one of the containers and squinted at it.  Then he turned it on its side.  "How much Altean can you read?"

Ryou shrugged.  "Like, reports stuff.  About a battle.  I wouldn't know the word for 'flour' in Altean if it bit me on the nose."

Sighing, Lance put his container down.  "Me either.  Well, it takes, what, thirty minutes to bake a cake?  Maybe?  I guess it depends.  How long can they distract Hunk for?"

"Um."  Ryou paused, thinking it over.  "Depends on if Shiro gets a signal from us.  When we're done he can stop making up questions about getting a new arm.  I think between him and Pidge they can manage a couple of hours at least."

Lance nodded.  "He should really go ahead and just get the arm changed out.  It'll be good for him."

Snorting, Ryou shook his head.  "No way.  I  _ had _ to get rid of mine. If I'd had the choice, I wouldn't have."  He worked the fingers of his Altean hand, then splayed them all out.  "It's a risk.  And considering these are our main weapons?  It's hard to put them in danger.  Otherwise we'd be useless in a fight."

"No, you wouldn't," Lance replied.  "Both of you can kick our asses with your arms tied behind your backs.  Besides, your works great, so why worry about it?"

"Still a risk."  Ryou waved him off.  "Anyway. Not the point.  Can we figure this out in two hours?"

Lance surveyed the pile of ingredients, then squared his shoulder.  "Yeah.  Yeah, we totally can.  We're two smart guys with an important mission.  We always pull through when it matters, right?"  He threw his arm over Ryou's shoulder and raised his fist over his head.  "We've got this."

"Right."  Ryou grinned back, wrapping his arm around Lance's shoulders in return.  "This cake is going to be fantastic.  For Hunk."

"For Hunk!"

***

Forty minutes later, they had a pan full of darkened goo with a vaguely browned top.

"Okay," Lance said slowly.  "What did we learn?"

Ryou squinted at the mass and poked it with a metal finger.  The whole thing sloshed dangerously under the crispier layer.  "That we definitely need to figure out what Hunk uses like eggs."

"And?"

Ryou blinked, then turned to look at Lance.  "Um, lower temperature?  I don't know what else."

Putting down the tray with a sigh, Lance pulled off the oven mitts.  "That first powder definitely isn't flour."

"Oh!"  Ryou frowned.  "It smelled like flour.  I don't know what else would be right."  He watched their mass dubiously.  "Do we try it?"

Lance crinkled his nose.  "We probably should, right?"

Straightening his shoulders, Ryou went and retrieved two spoons.  He handed one to Lance, then paused with his over the top.  "Try on three?"

"Can we not and say we did?"

"We still don't know if we used the right amount for sugar."

Lance groaned.  "Yeah, okay.  On three.  One... two... three!"

They both plunged their spoons in and tried it.

Immediately, Lance started to cough.  He threw his spoon at the sink, then dove forward to take gulping mouthfuls of water.  "Ugh.  Ugh!"  Swishing it through his mouth, he spat it back out and shuddered.  "That is the- I think I might be sick."  Clutching the rim of the sink, Lance glared back at Ryou, who continued to lick the spoon.  "How are you putting that in your mouth?"

Ryou shrugged.  "No taste.  It has a cool texture, though.  Like melted chocolate."

Still distinctly gray looking, Lance scowled, then gagged.  "I hate you right now."

"Sorry."  Ryou offered a bland smile.  Then he took another spoonful.

Lance gagged harder.

***

The next batch was better, in that it looked like they'd actually managed to create something that looked vaguely like it was supposed to.  Rather than golden brown, the final product had come out a pale blue.  Ryou took a deep breath, then crinkled his nose.  "That doesn't smell like a cake."

Lance poked at the top with a fork.  It sank in like it was supposed to and came out clean.  "Mmm.  Well, at least it's not that goop.  It can't be worse."  He broke off a small piece of a corner and took a sniff.  "Okay, yeah, that is a little weird.  Kinda spiced."

"Try eating it."

Eyeing him, Lance let out a huff.  "I really wish I wasn't the only one suffering, here."

Ryou gave a bland smile.  "When we get it right, you'll be the only one who gets to enjoy it.  So, you know, balances out."

Considering that, Lance tilted his head to the side.  "True.  Fair enough.  It's not a bad smell, right?"

"No, it's not," Ryou agreed.  "Just not very cake-y.  But you said the batter was sweet."

"It was."  Lance took a deep breath, then shoved the attempt in his mouth.  He chewed slowly, then swallowed.  "Huh."

Ryou waited, shifting from foot to foot.  "Well?"

Straightening up, Lance spun his fork in his hand thoughtfully.  "It's not what I expected.  And it definitely has a kick.  Which is weird.  But it's not a bad thing.  Just weird."  He paused, considering, then took another small bit and held it up.  "Try it.  I want to see if it burns your tongue."

"Encouraging," Ryou drawled.  "This is like the impulse to touch a freshly painted wall, isn't it?"

Lance held up his thumb and pointer, the pads nearly touching.  "A little bit.  C'mooon.  Try it.  For science."

For a moment longer, Ryou hesitated.   Then he leaned forward and took the bite.  "Mmm.  Nope, no burn.  Wait."  He swished his mouth.  "Okay, maybe a teensy bit.  Had to have been that cinnamon-y stuff we tried, right?"

"I guess," Lance admitted.  "I don't know what else it'd be.  It's not bad.  If we made a sweet icing, it might be good?  Like spicy hot chocolate."

That wasn't a bad idea.  Ryou considered their blue spicy cake, then nodded.  "Sure.   And better than going back to the drawing board, anyway."  He looked back over at their ingredients.  It was significantly diminished now, with many of the powders sprinkled over the table from their experimentation.  The sink was absolutely filled with cups and bowls as they tried different batters.

"How do we make icing?"

Lance paused, opened his mouth, then shut it.  "Huh.  Well, we have the sweet stuff.  We just make it runny.  How hard can that be?"

***

"Okay, so five cups of the not-honey is way too... this."  Lance pulled out the spoon. The golden brown mass on the end stayed stubbornly stuck, even when he vigorously shook it to try and get it off.

Nodding, Ryou wrote that down in a notebook.  He scratched idly at his cheek, and his fingers came back stained with white.  Oops.  Wiping that off, he flipped through the pad.  "Last time we tried it with a half cup of milk to 3 cups of the honey, and that was too runny.  So maybe two thirds of a cup now, and add a quarter cup more if that's not enough?"

Lance nodded slowly, thinking it over.  "Yeah, okay.  And this time maybe we should chill it if it’s too runny.  Isn't that supposed to help?"

Looking up, Ryou arched a brow.  Then he shrugged.  "Sure.  Cold makes things thicker, right?  Worth a shot."  He glanced over at the clock, then paused.  "Uh, Lance?"

"Hm?"  Lance glanced up from measuring the milk.  "Something up?"

"It's been three hours."

Lance nearly dropped the milk container, only barely catching it on the tips of his fingers.  "What?  No."  His eye went wide as he looked over as well.  "No way!"

Lips twisting, Ryou glanced over at the cake.  "We did take a long time to experiment.  That first goop took the better part of an hour."

"All for that monstrosity."  Lance shuddered dramatically.  "Okay.  I'll finish with the icing, and get it as close as I can.  You get the cake out of the pans and get it ready to go.  Got it?"

Snapping off a salute, Ryou pulled over a plate and started to carefully flip over the tins, tapping at the bottom.  Despite everything else being chaotic trial and error, the cake popped out easily.  From there, he took a knife and carefully carved off the little edge where they'd tasted from.  It took a few minutes of digging under the supplies and pans to find the rack, but Ryou finally dragged it out then put it in the sink.  The cake could sit on that while they frosted it, and then they could put it on the plate where it'd at least look nice.

Hopefully.

Theoretically.

Maybe.

"How's the icing looking?" Ryou asked.

Glancing over, Lance held up a spoon.  The icing came off of it in a slow drip like honey.  "A little more milk, maybe?"  He tasted it, lips curling up.  "Tastes good, though.  Nice and sweet.  If the cake is weird, maybe he still won't taste it?"

"Hunk's got a chef's sense of taste, he'll probably like weird," Ryou offered.  "Like on TV where they make dishes with really weird ingredients for judges."

Lance's brows rose.  "You watch- Shiro watched cooking competition shows?"  When Ryou nodded, he let out a frustrated little noise.  "Then why are you both so hopeless?"

"Lack of interest, mostly."

Sighing, Lance scrubbed over his face and added another splash of milk.  "Fine.  Well, now you'll at least have-"  He froze as the door chirped, the sign that someone had put their palm to the scanner outside.

Uh oh.

In a flash, Ryou rushed across the room, planting himself right in front of the door.  It opened to show Hunk, who visibly started at suddenly having someone in his face.  "Woah!  Ryou!  Sorry, were you coming out?"  Then he paused, frowning.  "What are you doing in the kitchen?"

Ryou resisted the powerful desire to glance back at Lance.  It would only draw attention to him, and what a mess they'd made of the kitchen.  Instead, he rested one arm casually on the door frame, blocking Hunk's view inside.  "Looking for you," he replied, evenly as he could.

Blinking rapidly, Hunk gave a short nod.  "Oh.  Sure.  What did you need?"

Uh.

Couldn't be the arm, because Shiro had just used that excuse, and couldn't be food, because he'd want to go back.  Which left...

...Yellow.

"You had the yellow bayard last, right?"

Hunk slowly shook his head.  "No, I was working with the Olkarion during that last distress call.  You had it then."  His eyes narrowed and his lips pressed thin.  "Did you lose my bayard?"

Oh, Lance so owed him for this one. 

Ryou gave a sheepish smile and shrugged one shoulder.  "It's never something I've had to keep up with!  I'm used to weapons you can't exactly misplace."  He waggled the fingers of the prosthetic, glowing a cheery Altean blue.  "I might have left it in the Yellow Lion, then."

Expression still darkly clouded, Hunk set his jaw.  "It better be.  Seriously, Ryou, you know how important it is.  You can't just leave it laying around!"

"I know!  I don't usually lose things, it's odd."  He shuffled in place.  "Would you mind checking your room just in case?  So we're absolutely sure it's not there."

Hunk's jaw set. "I know I didn't lose it.  I've never misplaced the bayard and I didn't have it last.  Why would it be in my room?"

"Just to eliminate it!  So I don't wonder and I can keep looking."

Suddenly, Hunk's eyes narrowed.  He tilted his head and looked Ryou up and down.  "Losing something really isn't like you."

Ryou swallowed hard, not sure what the sudden change of attitude was about.  "No, it's really not.  I put everything where it belongs.  I mean, I'm not as serious about it as Shiro is, but call it the family resemblance."

"Are you sure you lost it?" Hunk asked, dawning horror in his voice.  "Or was it stolen?"

Oh, boy.  Ryou racked his brain for a response to that.  "I don't think so?  I don't know when it would have happened.  I had it in the lion and then I don't remember where I put it after, and it's not in my armor."

"We should ask the others if they saw anything strange."  Hunk drew himself up, the gears behind his eyes working at full speed.  "Here, let me use the console to-"

"No!"

Hunk paused and slowly looked up at Ryou's face.  Ryou stared back, eyes wide and his arms braced against the door frame to keep Hunk out.

There was a long, painful silence.

"You didn't lose the bayard, did you?"

Utterly caught, Ryou shook his head.

Hunk nodded, then crossed his arms.  "Why can't I go into the kitchen?"

"Uh, because-"  Ryou scrambled for a decent explanation, but it all dried up in the face of Hunk's painfully direct glance.  He was a good liar, but damn, Hunk could actually be intimidating when he wanted to be.

There was a snicker from behind.  "Actually, he can come in now.  Don't kill us for the mess, it's with good intentions."

Ryou stepped back and turned, so he could see Lance leaning against the counter, the nicely frosted cake on a plate in his hands.  He gave a jaunty wave of greeting.

"How long were you done with that?" Ryou asked flatly.

Lance only grinned back.  "You were doing such a good job, I didn't want to interrupt."

Stepping inside, Hunk looked around, taking in the huge mess,  But then his eyes fell on the plate in Lance's hand.  "You two are cleaning whatever this is up, right?"

Saluting him, Lance nodded.  "Of course.  Just as soon as we're done."  With that, he held out the plate to Hunk.  "We figured you deserved somebody cooking for you for once.  Just for you.  We weren't really sure what we were doing, but... well, call it early Christmas cheer, alright?"

Hunk reached out and gently took the plate, as if it would shatter from the touch.  He looked down at the personal cake, up to Lance, then back to Ryou.   His lower lip wobbled, just a touch.  "You made this for me?"

If Ryou had known cooking for Hunk would get that kind of response, he would have... well, he would have talked to someone else about making something.  Somehow, he doubted it'd be quite as sweet to hand Hunk a plate full of some charred mass.  Or, worse, the goop that had made Lance's stomach rebel.  Not being able to taste had really not helped the lack of cooking skills.

"Thank you," Hunk finally murmured.  He swallowed hard, then smiled softly. "You got Pidge and Shiro in on it, huh?"

Shrugging one shoulder, Lance nodded.  "Wasn't hard.  They wanted to help surprise you.  It's a lot of work, for you to put in the effort to cook for us on top of everything else.  I know just being a paladin knocks me off my feet most days.  So this is a thank you."

Hunk surged forward, plate held carefully to the side, and he pulled Lance into a hug.  "Thank you."  Then he looked over at Ryou and offered him a smile.  "You getting in on this?"

Stepping forward, Ryou wrapped them both in a hug as best he could, carefully to keep away from the cake.  "Don't thank us too much yet.  You have to eat it first."

"I'm sure it's great," Hunk replied.  Then he glanced around the mess again.  "And if not, I appreciate the thought.  Tasting good is..."  He paused, lips slowly curling up.  "It's the icing on the cake."

Lance groaned and slumped dramatically against the counter.  "I was so nice to you!  And this is how you repay us!  Hunk, how could you betray me like this?"

Laughing, Hunk reached around him to retrieve a fork.  "I'm being spoiled, I'm allowed to make puns."  His eyebrows waggled.  "I thought it was a sweet thing to do."

This time, Ryou snickered, mostly at the way Lance flinched like he'd been physically wounded.  "Don't worry about it.  It was a piece of cake."

"I hate you both!"

***

The cake was later declared to be at least tasty enough that Hunk asked for their recipe.  Then he showed them the cookbook he had with ingredient translations that would have told them how to make a cake in under an hour.

It wouldn't have been as interesting, though.

 


	4. Shatt - Matt and Shiro cuddle with blankets, movies, and hot chocolate

A warm weight enveloped Shiro's back.  He started, not having heard anyone moving behind him, and nearly shoved the presence off.  But the plush rub of a blanket stilled him, reminding him where he was.

So instead, he glanced back over his shoulder to eye Matt.  "How'd you sneak up on me?"

Matt grinned back, pressing his cheek to Shiro's.  "I'm a ninja.  A space ninja."

"Sure," Shiro agreed, rolling his eyes.  "Which is why I've heard you tromping around in those boots every other time you came up behind me.  Super subtle.  Besides, you know the Blade of Marmora are the real ninjas."

Snorting, Matt ground his pointy chin into the meat of Shiro's shoulder, just to make him squirm.  The ass.  "We can both be ninjas."

This was a useless conversation, so Shiro put down his pad and leaned back into Matt's warmth.  He must have been wearing a blanket like a cloak, because Matt was using it to bolster his hug.  Which was a sneaky, cheating move to get Shiro's attention.  "Fine, fine, everyone is ninjas.  Except the paladins, who are paladins.  Now, seriously, how did you sneak up on me?"

Pulling back his hug, Matt instead kicked his leg up and rested the heel of his foot on Shiro's desk.  He was wearing huge, fluffy socks, dark with snowflake designs in pale blue.  "I got new gear.  And I brought you some too."  With that, he flicked his wrist.  Another wad of fluff flew out of his hands and landed directly on Shiro's head.

"Gee, thanks."  Shiro pulled them off and held them up.  His were of snowmen, complete with top hats and bow ties.  "Where did you even get these?"

Matt grinned.  "There were these old blankets, and Coran said any materials in the storage areas are good for reusing.  So I had the castle's machining processes break them down and turn them into these.  I drew the designs."

Brows up, Shiro looked the socks over with new appreciation.  "Huh.  Not bad."  Apparently Pidge hadn't gotten the family artistic genes, but Matt had some technical skill.  Though, his probably came from diagrams and engineering specs rather than a particular interest.  "Um, thanks.  This are nice.  But why?"

There was a pause as Matt looked him over.  "You keep track of that Earth calendar that Pidge and Hunk made?"

Once in awhile.  But Shiro just didn't have the burning curiosity about what was happening on Earth.  He kept a general eye on it, checking a couple times a month, but otherwise it wasn't worth it to him.  It didn't matter what the date on Earth was, and whenever someone's birthday got close, the general chaos was enough to give Shiro time to prepare.

"I'm going to take that as a no," Matt drawled.  He poked the socks.  "It's the 22nd.  Of December.  Thereabouts, anyway.  You know, time zones, time dilation, space."

Shiro blinked, at first not sure what December 22nd had to do with anything.  Was it Matt's birthday or something?  But then it hit.  "Oh, a Christmas thing.  Right."  Shoot.  He hadn't paid attention at all, and Shiro had no idea what to do for gifts.  Shit.  He was going to have to come up with something fast.

Maybe waiting on everyone else's reactions wasn't his best plan.

"Yeah, a Christmas thing," Matt replied, voice dry.  "You know, I figured I'd be a good boyfriend and drag you away from your work for movies and snacks, but apparently I'm saving you from waking up in three days and being utterly confused."

Shiro snorted and shrugged.  "Well, now I don't have an excuse anymore.  It would have been embarrassing, but at least no one would wonder why I wasn't prepared.  So thanks."

"You're welcome," Matt replied cheerfully.  "Now, c'mon.  Movies.  Snacks.  Hot chocolate."

Pausing, Shiro's eyes went wide.  "Hot chocolate?  Really?"

Matt's smile widened as he tugged on Shiro's shirt.  "Yup.  It's a little weird.  Got kind of a mocha aftertaste?  I like it a lot, actually, it might be better than Earth hot chocolate."

Finally, Shiro stood, still clutching the socks.  "Take that back."

"Try it and see for yourself."  Once he was up, Matt leaned up to snag a kiss.  "Either way, c'mon.  You've been sitting at this desk since dinner time.  Relax a little with me, okay?  Put on the socks, snuggle under the blanket with me, have some cookies and watch a silly movie.  It's almost Christmas, you're contractually obligated to have a little fun."

Shiro's brows rose.  "I don't recall signing that contract.  I don't even celebrate Christmas."

Rolling his eyes, Matt shrugged.  "I forged your signature.  I'm a bad, sneaky ninja, remember?  And you don't need to believe in all the religious stuff to celebrate.  Take the damn excuse, Starshine."

"Alright, alright."  Shiro wove his arm around Matt's shoulders, pulling him in and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.  "What movie?"

Matt beamed at him and started down the hall, the blanket flaring dramatically behind him as he half-dragged Shiro with him.  "Wasn't sure.  Pidge brought a few.  We'll pick when we get there.  You ever see those ancient stop motion animation ones?"

"Probably not," Shiro admitted.  "Are you counting Die Hard as a Christmas movie?"  It seemed like something that Matt would do.  He liked that kind of contrarian organization, as much as it used to drive Shiro batty on the trip to Kerberos.  

Matt considered, then shook his head.  "No, too obvious.  Everyone makes that joke."  But then he paused, eyes wide.  "There's a Christmas Batman movie, though.  Let's do that one?"

"Isn't that the one with the Penguin?"

"Mhmm."

Shiro considered, then nodded. "Yeah, alright.  Let's see if Pidge has that one."

Grinning again, Matt lead them to the rec room.  The screens were already set up for movies, and there were two canisters along with a big tray of cookies.  Matt shoved at Shiro's shoulder until he obligingly sat down, then cuddled against his side.  "Alright, socks on.  That's nonnegotiable." 

"Fine, fine."  Despite his tone, Shiro had zero objections to wearing fuzzy socks.  He hadn't thought about turning the ship's many, many extra blankets into other clothing, but it was a good idea.  "How hard was it make these, once you had a design?"

Matt shrugged.  "Basically the push of a button.  The castle does most of the work.  So, no, I didn't slave all day over a hot sewing machine for this one, sorry."

Tugging off his boots, Shiro slid the socks on and wiggled his toes.  "I'm not judging, I'm just wondering.  More of these would be nice.  They're warm."  Already sinking back into the couch, Shiro reached out to pick up one of the canisters.  The lid was on to keep the liquid inside cool, but when he opened it, he was nearly smacked with the scent of almost-chocolate.  "Oh.  Oh,  _ man _ ."

"Right?"  Matt grinned at him, watching with obvious enjoyment.  "Gourmet hot chocolate.  Space might be worth it for-"  He paused, then shook his head.  "No, nevermind.  But try it anyway."

Shiro glanced over, heart clenching.  They still had no idea where Commander Holt had ended up, without even a picture to search with.  Scooting over, Shiro wrapped his arm around Matt's shoulder and squeezed.  "Hey-"

"Nope," Matt said.  "No way.  Today is a nice day.  Talk about it tomorrow.  Right how is hot chocolate."

"I just-"

"Keep it up and that hot chocolate will end up in your lap instead."

Alright.  Shiro sighed and kissed his temple, then obligingly took a sip.

Then he froze.

It was good.  It was  _ really _ good.

"You like it," Matt sing-songed.  "It's amazing."

Shiro started to pull the cup away, then grumbled and took another sip.  "Okay, yeah, it's good.  But I still love the powder stuff."

Reaching around him, Matt wrapped them both in the blanket.  "I know you do, Starshine.  It's okay, I love you anyway."

Freezing, Shiro's eyes tracked over.  Matt wasn't looking at him, but it was faux-casual.  He knew exactly what he'd said."

They had been together for a couple months now, but this was the first time Matt had said he loved Shiro.

"I love you too," Shiro replied.  "Even if you mock my tastes."

Matt's lips curled up, and his eyes tracked over to meet Shiro's.  A hint of color bloomed over his cheeks as he fumbled for the controls.  "They deserve to be mocked.  But fine, fine.  Here.  Batman it is."

Wrapping his arm around Matt's waist, Shiro curled in.  

Matt had been right.  Relaxation was the right call, after a day of working and stressing.  And movies, hot chocolate and snacks was a great way to do that.

The best part was sharing it all with his boyfriend, though.

The boyfriend who loved him.

Shiro hid his smile in Matt's curls.  There was warmth in his chest even thinking the words.  Maybe it was the hot chocolate.

But probably not.


	5. Shallura - Snow Angels

Shiro stood with his hands held out, taking deep breaths.  Each exhale created a small cloud of steam that drifted lazily up, disappearing almost immediately.  Above him, thick, fat flakes of snow twisted down from the sky.  The ones that landed on his metal palm built up, like a layer of snow on a car.  Whatever touched his flesh palm melted immediately, leaving a small puddle of cold water in the small dip at the center.

It had been a long time since Shiro had been able to enjoy snow.  Last time he'd seen it, he'd been on that icy planet, injured and without proper equipment.  His armor kept him perfectly warm, though he'd taken off the gauntlets for the chance to fully enjoy the sensation.

Over the hill, he could hear the cries of the rest of the team.  Judging by the raised voices, it wouldn't take long before a snowball fight picked up.  It was basically inevitable, the longer they stayed here.  But Shiro didn't have the heart to pack everyone back into the castle, especially when they weren't leaving until the updates finished.

Besides, Shiro wanted a moment.  Just a few seconds of privacy to take in the scenery.  He'd forgotten how quiet snow made the world seem.  It was impossible for anything to feel so still with everyone else around, honestly.  But right now, he had the chance.

Or, he did, until he heard the crunch of boots behind him.

"Are you alright?" Allura asked.  Her arms were crossed in front of her as if she could still feel a chill.  While she wasn't wearing her helmet, she'd gained some sort of hat, with fluffy looking flaps that covered her longer ears.  "I noticed you'd stepped away."

Shiro dropped his arms and shot her a smile.  "I'm fine."  When her brows just raised, he laughed.  "No, really.  I am.  It's just noisy over there.  I wanted a chance for some peace."

Pausing, Allura glanced back.  "Oh.  My apologies.  I can leave you be, then."

"No, I don't mind.  So long as you don't start yelling and throwing snow like the rest."  He nodded over to the hill, just as he heard Lance let out a shriek, and Hunk's loud, boisterous laughter.

Allura's lips quirked up as she followed his gaze.  "Ah.  I understand the problem.  You don't want to play with the rest?  It seemed to be something special to the other paladins."

Shrugging, Shiro went back to staring at the treeline.  Like evergreens on Earth, these plants kept their foliage, theirs all a dark grey.  The branches bowed from the heavy tufts of snow.  "It is special.  I'll probably join them soon.  I just wanted..."  He sighed.  "Contextualizing, is all."

"I don't understand," Allura admitted.  "It seems the snow doesn't have much context.  It simply is."  She stepped over, the snow crunching underfoot as she sided up next to him.  She followed the treeline as if it would give her the answers.

"Bad wording," Shiro admitted.  "I just hadn't seen it for a long time, except for... when I escaped, before.  The second time.  The planet I ended up on was icy."

Allura's breath caught.  "Oh.  Yes.  You did say.  And that was the first time you'd seen this since you were on Earth, yes?"

Lips quirked up, Shiro nodded.  "Yes.  I didn't exactly have the chance to enjoy last time.  I was a little preoccupied with not freezing."  He glanced over at her, smile falling from her struck look.  "I'm fine.  I'm not- snow was never that big a part of my life.  I hadn't seen it in over a decade even before I left for Kerberos.  So it's not anything special or important to me.  I just wanted to have another good moment with it compared to last time.  Nothing pressing, just... peaceful."  He sighed and looked away again.  "I know that doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it does," Allura replied.  She pressed against his side, armored arms clicking against each other.  "I think it's wise."

Shiro smiled again, eyes gentle.  "I like the hat, by the way."

Hands coming up, Allura brushed the fabric.  "Oh.  Thank you.  It's not very fashionable, but it'll do.  We lose a lot of our body heat through our ears, and I didn't wish to wear the helmet the entire time."

"Humans are the same," Shiro admitted, rubbing over his own ear with his natural hand.  "Or, I think?  Maybe that was disproven.  I'll ask Pidge later, I bet she remembers."

Allura eyed Shiro's ears dubiously.  "They seem very small to lose that much heat," she pointed out, and her tone made it clear it was a fault.

Shooting her a flat look back, Shiro took a deep breath.  "Okay, peaceful time over.  I'm ready to play now."  Then he pushed her shoulder for the insult.

"Hey!"  Allura's arms windmilled as she caught her balance.  Then she shoved him back, far harder than he'd done.  The force of it and the ice underfoot made Shiro's legs fly out from under him.  He only just barely avoided kicking her as he crashed down on his back in the snow.

Thankfully, the snow was fairly thick.  The only thing hurt was Shiro's pride.

He had started it, though.

Stepping over again, Allura kneeled down next to him, brows up and lips curled smugly.  "I expect better reaction times from you, paladin."

Shiro glared at her, then closed his eyes and pulled together all his dignity.  "I wanted to lay down," he claimed.  "I'm making snow angels."

Rather than call out the clear bluff, Allura went quiet.  "What's a snow angel?"

Oh, right.  No snow and no angels on Altea.

"Well, angels are... spiritual beings in a common religion on Earth," Shiro replied, picking each word carefully.  "They're usually depicted with wings and robes.  So when I do this...."  He spread his legs and brought them together, then flapped his arms.  Allura watched the whole time, her expression almost morbidly fascinated.  "It creates the impression of the outfit.  Like an angel laid down in the snow."

Allura looked over the silhouette and gave a slow nod.  "I see," she replied carefully.  "What is the point of an angel?"

Thinking it over, Shiro finally shrugged.  "A few things, I think.  I'm not really someone to ask.  I'm not part of that religion.  But making snow angels is common when there's at least a few inches."  He stared up at the sky.  "Well, it is on TV.  That was the first time I've made one."

"And you just wave your limbs and that's all?"  Allura replied.  "I'm still not sure the function."

Shiro sat up and smiled at her.  "It's fun.  Try it for yourself, you'll see."

From the arch of Allura's brow, she was having a 'humans are so strange' moment.  But either she was still in the mood to oblige him after thinking he was in a bad head space, or she was curious enough to try.  With only a nod, Allura flopped back and started to slowly work her arms.  "Like this?"

"Yes.  For the legs, you can either do what I did or lock them together and wave them both from side to side.  Your call."  

"Hm."  Allura closed her eyes, brow furrowed as she worked.  Clearly, she was still trying to find the fun.

While she was occupied, Shiro took a big armful of snow.  Then he got up on his knees over her head.  "Allura."

The use of her name visibly startled her.  Allura looked up, mouth slightly parted-

Only to get a face full of snow.

For a long moment, she only blinked, stunned.

Then, fast as a whip, she flipped onto her stomach and launched herself forward.  She full on tackled Shiro, crashing them both into the snow.  Flakes of snow flew up from the impact, creating a short, temporarily stronger snowfall.

"I trusted you!"  Allura accused, thumping him in the shoulder.  

With his armor on, Shiro could barely feel it, so he only laughed.  "I'm sorry," he managed through his chuckles.  "I wasn't planning on it until you closed your eyes, then I couldn't resist.  I promise it's a real thing."

Allura grabbed a handful of snow and jammed it into Shiro's face.   He sputtered around the slush, moving his hand from side to side, but she followed the movement.  "I was being respectful of your culture!"

"It's not my culture, I told you," Shiro shot back, grinning despite the fact that it got snow in his mouth.  "And it's not sacred.  Just fun."

"It was religious, you said!"

Shiro shrugged.  "Barely.  Not really.  Just the iconography, no real spiritual significance."  He smiled up at her, taking in the goofy hat with the flaps, the reddish hue to her cheeks from the cold, the glimmer of her cheek markings and the flakes of snow still stubbornly cling to her hair.

If there was anything to be spiritual about this moment, it was the fact that Allura looked like a goddess like this.  The thought made Shiro's stomach flip, and heat ran through him despite the chill.

Something of that must have shown, because Allura paused.  Slowly, she reached up to touch her face.  "Is something on me?"

"No, just-"  Shiro looked away.  "I was distracted for a moment."

This was inappropriate.  Allura was a princess, and an extremely busy one at that.  Shiro didn't have time to keep mooning over her like this.  What did his feelings offer except to make things awkward and uncomfortable between them?  The same way she didn't appreciate Lance's flirting, there was no way she'd welcome Shiro pining.  It would make her second guess everything between them, and that was the last thing Shiro wanted.

Just as Shiro was coming up with an excuse for his behavior, another handful of snow slammed into his face.

Coughing, he shoved at Allura instinctively, trying to get away.  But Allura wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders, keeping in place no matter how he bucked.  Unless he wanted to really use force, she wasn't moving.

"Hey!"  Shiro shook his head, sending flakes and globs of half-melted snow all over.  "What was that for?"

"Revenge," Allura replied primly.  "I merely did to you what you did to me."

That was a fair catch, so Shiro just scowled back.  "Alright, we're even.  Let me up."

"No.  I want to you to tell me what you were thinking just now."

Shiro's eyes widened.  "I-"  No, bad idea.  Bad.  "Like I said, I just got lost in thought."

But Allura's jaw set.  "Thought about what?"

Seriously?  Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  "I believe my thoughts are still my own to keep.  But if you must know, I just like your hat.  I think it's a little silly looking."

Allura pulled the hat on a little tighter. "It is not," she shot back, a little sulky.  Nevermind that she'd been the one to call it unfashionable before.

"In a cute way," Shiro replied soothingly, then froze.  "I- I mean... the hat is cute.  It has ear flaps.  Not..."  He groaned and let his head flop back down into the snow.

Well, damn.  That had been smooth.  Usually he lied better than that.  But he couldn't let Allura go on thinking she looked bad in the hat.  By all accounts, she could have.  But Allura made everything look lovely.

_ Allura _ was lovely.

When he looked back at her, Allura was smiling triumphantly.  "You do like it."  When she leaned forward, her hair tumbled and spilled over her shoulders, resting lightly on the snow below.  "Do you like me?"

"I think you're a wonderful person and leader," Shiro replied, but his voice came out slightly strangled.  She was just so close.  Less than a foot away, now, and leaning over him, her hands warm on his chest despite the armor.

Allura leaned in even farther.  "Is that all?"  She reached up and brushed his bangs out of his face.  "Even if I say you look lovely with snow in your hair and your cheeks pink?"

Well, if Allura liked him flushed, she had to love his blush right now.  "I-"  Was this really happening?  Had Shiro fallen into an alternate universe?  "It's not all," he managed.  "You're..."  Gorgeous.  Amazing,  Strong.  Everything.

"I'm going to kiss you," Allura finished for him.  And when he didn't object or move away, she did.

Shiro stayed frozen as the ice below them, still not quite following how they had gotten here.  Then he surged up, hand cupping the back of that damnably cute hat as he returned the kiss.

When they pulled away, both of them were panting, leaving a constant little cloud of steam between their lips.  Shiro watched her through it.  "Before, I was thinking I'd rather worship you than any angel."

Allura's cheeks flamed.  "You were not," she muttered back.  "Though it is a very good line."

"No line.  Just the truth."  Shiro took her hand in his and kissed the knuckles of her gauntlet.  

As he started to say something more, there was a shriek over the hill.  Pidge, and not a happy Pidge, judging by the sound of her voice.

"I should probably do something about that," Shiro muttered, sighing.

"Let them handle it themselves," Allura replied.  Then she kissed him again.  "They can have their fun, and we can have ours."

Shiro blinked, then beamed back.  "Lovely plan.  Care to walk me through it?"

Allura laughed and did just that.


	6. Sheith - Hypothermia

Shiro's feet pounded through the snow, as he ran as fast as he could manage through the drifts.  Each desperate intake of breath shocked through his chest, the cold air making him feel like he wasn't taking in as much as he needed.  Behind him, there was thumps and crashes as the creature followed.  They used their giant, gorilla-like arms to swing forward, neatly avoiding the snow that Shiro sunk into it.

Which was just unfair.

There was an extra loud thump from behind, then suspicious silence.  Shiro forced himself forward, dashing faster for just a few seconds.  It was enough to barely avoid the creature as it tried to land on top of him.  He saw the swipe of their huge, white hand-paws, and felt the force displaced air press against his back.  A furious roar from behind sent shivers up Shiro's spine, but he didn't stop.  Couldn't afford to.

"Almost there," Pidge called, voice ragged over the helmet's comm.  "Hold on, Shiro!"

"Doing-"  He cut off, grunting as he suddenly zagged to the side, avoiding another slam from the huge hands.  From the corner of his eye, he saw their long, ivory claws gleam in the low light.  "Doing my best.  How long?"

"Three minutes?" Hunk offered, though his voice raised up into a question.  "About that.  Maybe a little longer."

Oh, boy.  Shiro needed a new plan, because this whole running thing wasn't doing him any favors.  He wished, not for the first time, that they'd all flown their lions to this planet, rather than piling into Blue.

That wouldn't have been a problem, really.  Blue was the best choice to brave this storm and answer the distress signal in the area.  Even the castle hadn't been able to get close during the worst of it.

But when they'd climbed out, they'd only found ruins.  A quick investigation found a room with some kind of strange machine.  Between Hunk and Pidge they were able to turn it off, which had ended the horrible snow storm outside.

It had also given the wildlife in the area their first clear day in their lifetimes.

Apparently, this one had decided it was a great time to go hunting.  And Shiro had been the unfortunate idiot to separate from the group and get targeted.

If Blue could get here, none of this would be a problem.  But the stupid fur coat seemed to repel Lance and Hunk's blasts, and there was no way to fight the fifteen foot, raging, hungry monster with a sword or hand-to-hand.

So if Blue didn’t get here in time, there was nothing Shiro would be able to do.

So the team had better fly fast.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro chance a glance over his shoulder, timing the thumps of the fists coming down, and when the yeti wannabe would fling itself forward for the next 'step'.

He waited, for the right moment, then crashed to his knees and ducked down, hands over his head.

Thankfully, Shiro's timing had been right.  The beast pushed off and sailed right over him, landing a few feet ahead in the snow.  They scrambled to stop, too heavy and going too fast to turn on a dime.

While the yeti-thing struggled to readjust, Shiro jumped to his feet and started to run back the way they'd came.  That was the way the Blue Lion would be coming, so it was Shiro's best bet.  The field had nothing for him to hide behind or climb.  There were none of the trees or rocks that dotted the rest of the landscape, leaving Shiro completely in the open.

Preoccupied as he was, Shiro didn't have time to wonder why.

The beast finally turned, letting out a roar that made the ground feel like it was shaking.  Then it bounded after Shiro, a few seconds behind but already gaining ground.

"We're in Blue!" Keith called, voice tight.  "We're on our way right now."

Good.  Shiro tried to pant out a response, but he was using all his breath to run.  Every intake made his lungs feel like they were freezing from the inside, like his chest was too stiff to work properly.

Just another minute.  Long enough for Blue to get the couple of miles to him.  That was nothing to a lion, so he was-

The beast pivoted, bracing on one of the two beefy arms.  The other swung around in a wide arch, catching Shiro in a backhand.  The impact sent him clean off his feet and tumbling away to skid on what felt like pure ice.

Ow. Ow.

Shiro landed poorly, jarring into his shoulder and jaw.  At the angle he landed, his helmet came loose, clattering away just out of reach.  Shiro tried to get up to move over, but his hands and feet slid out from under him.  

No, he had to-

The beast roared again, incensed by the chase. They braced and launched forward.

There was a moment of pure, frozen horror, as Shiro looked up at the cloudy sky and saw the huge form of the not-yeti coming toward him.

Shoving off to the side, Shiro skidded and rolled, just barely avoiding where the creature landed.

But there was a painfully loud crack.

Below Shiro, the ground shifted and jolted.  He had just enough time to realize it was because the ice below him had completely broken apart from the impact.

Then the world gave out under him, and Shiro plunged down.

Into water.

it was a relatively gentle fall, but Shiro's breath still left him in a burst of bubbles.  The water was so cold it hurt, as his whole body tensed and seized.  Next to him, the yeti seemed to have no such problem.  It struggled and kicked wildly as it tried to get back to the surface.

One huge hand came too close, swiping Shiro on the side.  It wasn't enough to hurt him, the impact slowed from moving through water, but it did send him tumbling further into the frozen lake.

Away from the hole where light filtered through.

Into the dark.

Keeping his eyes open was a new, terrible kind of pain.  Shiro clenched his lid tightly, trying to preserve some heat to them, but they offered no real protection.  At least the water didn't feel salty as well.

For a moment, Shiro hung in the water, limp and shivering.  The hold was like knives pressing in, like claws to his face, still as if he was being held down, strapped the a table, held overnight and observed, alone in the quiet darkness on the icy, unyielding table-

His eyes snapped open and found only darkness.

So Shiro instinctively turned on his arm and reached out.

The purple glow lit his little section of the water.  He could see the ice catch the light from below, becoming a glowing sheet.  Back in the faint direction of the light, which already seemed to be darkening, the beast's form began to slow further. 

Shiro shivered watching, this time for a reason other than the cold.

That animal was halfway to dead, if it didn't get out.

So was Shiro.

Pulling his arm back, Shiro punched up.

The impact wouldn't have been near enough to crack the ice, but the heat of the hand cut through it, so easily it was startling.  Shiro forced his palm up, and he could feel his fingers breech past the ice, leaving a neat hole.

But nothing else.

By now, Shiro's lungs were starting to protest.  His air had left him as soon as he hit the water.  He'd already been out of breath from running.

Planting his other hand on the ice, Shiro drew the prosthetic back and started to work it around.  He spun in place, blinking rapidly to try and keep track of what he was doing.  The light reflected in the icy water, creating eerie glows and strange shadows.

Finally, Shiro's hand returned to the starting point.  The circle was crude, made worse by the fact that he was shaking, but there was a line of light surrounding the chunk of ice, which shifted and bobbed on the surface.

But it was still in his way.

Curling up, Shiro braced himself, then kicked.  Hard.

In the air, it would have been enough to send the ice flying.  Underwater, it gave and jolted, one edge catching on the rest of the ice.  Another kick slid it further and away from him, out of the way.

Shoving forward, Shiro grabbed onto the melted edge of the hole and took a deep, ragged breath.  The air felt amazing as it filled his lungs, sweet as any dessert Hunk had ever made them.

But then a gust of wind burned against his wet, bared skin.

Scrambling up the side, Shiro sprawled out on the ice, shivering too hard to do anything else.  His muscles shook and twitched, beyond his control.  But as he laid there, head pillowed in the snow and breathing deeply, it didn't seem quite so bad.

Vaguely, Shiro glanced over and saw the thinner patch of ice, jagged chunks frozen where they'd been held up at odd angles.  There was no sign of movement anymore.  Already, it was hard to tell where the hole had even been, if he didn't know what to look like.

It was already impossible to see the not-yeti below.  He didn’t hear any thumps or notice any movement.

That could have been him.

What a way to go.

Shiro let out a little snort of laughter, imagining it.  All that work from Haggar and the Galra and Kerberos and everything else the universe had thrown at him.  He didn't die slingshotting Jupiter, he didn't die in the arena.  He died running from a yeti and getting accidentally drowned.

Except the stupid animal hadn't managed to kill him either.

"Sorry," he muttered, voice sounding odd to his own ears.  Slow.  Messy.  Like his tongue wasn't working right.  Maybe it was frozen?  "Hard to kill.  Picked the wrong guy."

With that, Shiro let out another snorting burst of laughter.

There was a light above.  Blinking, Shiro recognized the Blue Lion circling around.  He raised his hand in greeting as it started to come near.

Would the lion drown?  No, that was silly.  The lions were okay in space, they didn't breathe.  Shiro was being ridiculous.  Even so,  Blue probably wouldn't like it, even if water was okay.  Weren't cats not supposed to like water, either?

As if true to his thoughts, Blue seemed reluctant to land.  They hovered about ten feet off the ground, head down and carefully angling their paws.  Finally, tentatively, they touched down.

The ice held.  Shiro tilted his head in surprise, before he realized that was the point.  Blue had been looking for a safe place to land.

"Smart cat," he muttered, eyes falling closed.  "Smarter than the dumb yeti."

Blue crouched down, letting out three figures.  Keith, Pidge and Hunk all made a beeline for Shiro.  They didn't seem worried about the ice, but Shiro sat up and held up his hands.  

But when he tried to call to them to stop, his lips and tongues wouldn't cooperate.  All that came out where a vague mumble, as Shiro listed to the side.

"Hey," Hunk greeted, kneeling down beside him.  "You had us worried when we couldn't see you.  Where'd your helmet go?"

Shiro blinked, then looked around.  "I lost it," he muttered, stomach falling.  "M'sorry.  I'll get it."

"I don't think so," Pidge replied.  "How about we get you back to the lion instead?"

Shaking his head, Shiro started to turn in place.  "No, s'important.  Gotta get it.  Not supposed to leave stuff in space.  Leave no trace."

Suddenly, there were hands on his face.  Hot ones.  So warm it burned.  Shiro jolted and faced forward again, only to find Keith nearly in his face.  "Shiro.  Stop it.  Stay still so Hunk can get you back to the Blue Lion and we can get you home."

Blinking rapidly, Shiro stared at him.  "I think you have a fever," he managed, the words falling from numb lips.

"Don't bother reasoning with him," PIdge sighed.  "We have to get him out of the cold now.  Just pick him up."

"Unless he fights back," Hunk pointed out.  

Shiro frowned.  "Won't fight you.  Don't fight the team.  No fighting."  He mustered his best glare, looking between each of them.  If they were fighting, he was going to make them do team building exercises.  Maybe somewhere warmer, though.  That sounded nice.

Sighing, Keith finally let go.  The sudden loss was startling, and it made the cold after feel even worse.  Shiro let out an unhappy whine.  

"He won't fight.  Just take him in."

"Alright," Hunk said, sighing.  "Okay, Shiro, it's us, okay?  Don't be scared."  

Before Shiro could ask why he'd be scared, two arms slipped under Shiro, then pulled him up.  He hung limply in Hunk's arms, too stunned to react.

Blinking down at the ground, Shiro watched them started to walk, then thumped Hunk on the shoulder.  "No.  Too heavy.  Gunna break."

"The ice here is really thick," Hunk told him.  "It's okay."

Shiro frowned at him.  "M'wet," he reported, as if Hunk was being obtuse.

"Yeah, we noticed that," Keith shot back. "That's why we're going."

But Pidge shook her head.  "Shiro means he already fell in, right?  So it can break."  She paused, like she was waiting for a response, but Shiro was still under all that cold water, only in his head.  He blinked at her, registering the words individually.  "That monster that chased him must have broken t.  We're too light."

Already, they were stepping into the lion.  There was a shift and the stomach-twisting sensation of lift-off as soon as they crossed the threshold.

"He's okay?" Lance called, voice floating down from the cockpit.  He sounded worried.  "How's he doing."

"M'fine," Shiro replied, as politely and automatically as if Lance had asked about his day at an office water cooler.  "How are you?"

Keith snorted.  "You're not fine, Shiro.  You sound drunk."

Nuh-uh.  Shiro hadn't drank anything.  Except the gross icy lake water.  He might have gotten a mouthful of that.  Was that what Keith meant?  "It tasted bad."

Slowly, Shiro was lowered to the floor.  He leaned back against the wall, eyes falling closed as conversation continued around him.

"We need to get him out of the armor."

"It's temperature controlled, shouldn't he stay in it?"

"With his helmet off, water probably got inside.  He needs to get dry more than anything."

Mmm, it was really hot in the lion.  Why did Lance keep it this hot?  It was like a sauna.  Was that part of Lance's skin routine?

"Are there blankets in here?"

"I think there's an emergency kit.  I can check."

"You do that, and Pidge, you and Lance call the castle and tell them to get ready."

"What are you going to do?"

"Get him warm, obviously.  You got through survival courses, you know what has to be done next.  I know Shiro best, it should be me."

"Yeah,  _ that's _ why."

"It is!  I wouldn't- not while he's like this."

"Sorry, you're right.  I'll get that blanket.  You get Shiro ready."

Maybe something was wrong?  Shiro was startling to tingle in a bad way.  It wasn't supposed to be this hot in any of the lions, right?  It shouldn't make his skin hurt like this, pins and needles in the worst way possible.

Hands on his shoulders made Shiro start and open his eyes.  Keith was looking down at him again, brow furrowed and eyes roaming over Shiro's face.  "Don't go to sleep," he ordered.  "Not yet, okay?  You need to stay awake for a little bit."

"Wasn't gunna," Shiro shot back, despite the fact that he'd definitely been dozing against the wall.  

"Good.  I'm going to take off your armor, okay?"

That wasn't right.  Shiro frowned at Keith.  "Wanted to take you to dinner first."

Keith froze, eyes wide.  "What?"

"Three times.  Not till then.  That's what you're supposed to do."

Slowing, Keith took a deep breath.  Then he gently reached out and put his hand over Shiro's mouth.  It burned, even worse than the air in the Blue Lion.  "No more, okay?  Not until you're feeling better."

"M'fine," Shiro said, this time a willful lie.  "You're sick.  Too warm."

Keith rolled his eyes.  "Obviously I'm the one sick.  It couldn't be that you're too cold."

Blinking back at him, Shiro frowned.  "But you're too hot.  Or is that Red?"

"This is why you need to stop talking," Keith replied, sighing.  "You're clearly not in your head right now."  With that, he brushed Shiro's bangs out of his face.  "I'm going to start taking off your armor now, okay?  Not for anything.  Just to help warm you."

Shiro squinted, but gave a sharp nod.  With permission granted, Keith started to unclip the pieces of the armor with practiced ease, despite it being on another person.  Then he peeled off the undersuit, which clung wetly to Shiro's skin.

"Eugh," he muttered.  "Gross.  Too warm in here.  Tell Lance his skin is fine."

Keith paused, head tilted.  "What does- you know what, no.  Are your boxers wet?"

Glancing down, Shiro colored, mortified.  "No," he lied again.  "M'fine."

"You fell in cold water, Shiro, you need to dry off.  Are they wet?"

Oh.  Shiro looked and started to reach down, then stilled.  Normally he didn't like being bare.  Why was that?  The answer slipped through his fingers like melting snow, like shifting sand, like trying to catch a cloud or a beam of light-

His spiralling, confused thoughts were cut off by footsteps.  Hunk stepped back down the ramp, carrying a blanket.  "I think it's big enough for you both.  Starting to feel better, Shiro?"

Shiro stared back.  "I want my clothes back."

"That's probably a no."  Hunk sighed and tossed his blanket to Keith, who caught it one handed as he continued to undress.  "The castle is coming to us, since it'll be faster.  Should only be a few minutes, but Coran says to warm him up as much as we can in the meantime."

"On it," Keith confirmed.  He rolled his bodysuit off.  "You go back up to the cockpit, alright?  Shiro won't want people seeing him until he's in his right mind again."

Hunk nodded.  "Yeah, alright.  I'll call when the castle arrives."  With one last concerned look, he walked back up.

Waving after him, Shiro muttered a soft, "bye."

Before he could fully comprehend what Hunk had been talking about, a blanket wrapped around him.  It was scratchy against his sensitized skin.

Keith scooted in next to him, by now mostly bare as well.  Shiro's boxers were still on, uncomfortably damp, and so were Keith's, his dry.

The heat of him hurt.

But when Shiro squirmed, Keith wrapped an arm around him, keeping him in place.  Anyone else, Shiro would have kept fighting and squirming.  For Keith, he stilled.  "No," he replied instead, ducking his head.  It pressed his nose into the hair just below Keith's ear.  "Don't like this."

"You need to warm up.  You're freezing, Shiro.  Literally."

Shiro considered that.  "You're too warm.  Are you sick?"

Groaning in frustration, Keith wrapped an arm around Shiro's head and pulled him in close.  This time, Shiro found himself pressed to Keith's shoulder and held there.  Instinctively, he wrapped around Keith's chest, just to keep from losing his balance.  "I'm not sick.  You're hurt.  Lay down and close your eyes, okay?  You need to..."   He paused, openly searching for a thought.  "Count my heartbeat.  Okay?"

"Why?"  Shiro managed to pick his head up enough to look at Keith's face.  For the first time, he really looked.  Saw the tension, the thin line of his lips and the furrow of his brow.  That wasn't good.  Keith shouldn't be so upset, but Shiro wasn't very good at stopping it.  Had something happened while they were separated?

"Don't worry about why," Keith told him.  "It's just really important.  You have to lay down and stay in the blanket and count my heartbeats.  Promise me?"

Shiro squinted, considering.  "'Cause you're sick?"

"For the love of-"  Keith let out a hiss of breath between his teeth.  "Yes, fine.  You have to do it because I'm sick."  He grumbled under his breath, and Shiro caught the word 'stubborn' and 'impossible'.

Well, if Keith wasn't obviously feverish it wouldn't be a problem.  Shiro huffed at him, too tired to properly handle Keith's temper.  Instead he flopped his head down on Keith's bare chest and listened.  Idly, he tapped a fingers against Keith's equally bare stomach in time.  One... two... three...

"Too fast," Shiro muttered, eyes closed.  "Used to worry me."

Keith sighed, his hand smoothing up and down Shiro's spine.  The touch was like fire, making him squirm, but he stayed in place.  He'd promised, and Keith was sick.  Shiro had to count his heartbeat, so no moving.  

"Guess it's a Galra thing?” Keith said.  “I dunno.  Hard to say.  Remember when you tried to get me to meditate to slow down?"

Letting out a snorting laugh, Shiro nodded.  "Took ten minutes for you to get bored."

Keith smiled into Shiro's hair.  "It was really boring.  Like you're better at it."

"Am too.  Just don't really care to."  Closing his eyes, Shiro nuzzled in.  He thought he felt Keith's breath hitch at the movement, but when he concentrated, it was back to normal.  "Worked out later with the lions, right?"

"Guess it did."  Keith kept petting, a slow counterpoint to Shiro's tapping and counting.  "How are you feeling?"

"Mmm?"  Shiro paused, then looked up.  "You're still too hot."

"You better keep counting, then."

Finger freezing on Keith's hip, Shiro stared up at him, eyes wide.  "I lost track," he admitted, voice small.  "I'm sorry."

Keith's look was just as warm as their mutual blanket burrito.  "That's okay.  Just start over."

With a nod, Shiro settled in and started back up.

Within a few minutes, Pidge called back that they were landing in the castle.  Shiro didn't move as they settled in, or as Coran came over with a floating stretcher.  It wasn't until he was pried off of Keith that Shiro looked up.

"173," he reported, very serious.

Keith smiled back, still soft.  "Good job, Shiro."

Pride puffed his chest full, and Shiro stayed smiling as Coran bundled him up into way too hot blankets and encouraged him to rest.

***

A day later, Shiro pressed his face into his hands.

Keith stared back, unimpressed.  "You lived.  You can say whatever you want to in that situation, I think.  I'm not going to hold you to any of it.  You were obviously out of it."

"Hypothermia will do that to you, I guess," Shiro sighed back, scrubbing.  He raised his head and set his jaw, clinging to the bare scraps of dignity he had left.  "Thank you for doing all that.  Especially after my comments.  I'm sure that was... not quite comfortable for you."

Brows up, Keith crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.  "Like I said, you clearly didn't mean it.  You were slurring like a drunk."

Shiro groaned and closed his eyes, trying and failing to fight off a blush.  "Yes, well, still.  It was kind of you to do.  You're not much for physical contact you don't initiate, and I appreciate that you did your best to keep it private."

"Of course," Keith said.  He eyed Shiro speculatively.  "You would have done the same for anyone.  Least I could do."

"It's easier for me than for you," Shiro said, brows up.  "So just let me thank you for a kindness, alright?  I appreciate it."

Gaze softening, Keith nodded.  "Alright.  You're welcome, then.  I'm just glad you're feeling better."  He stood and stretched, his back cracking disgustingly as he moved.  Shiro winced and made a face, more habitual at this point.  He was long since used to the odd noises Keith's body occasionally made.  He got a smirk in response.

"Okay, that's definitely because you're half alien," Shiro muttered.

Keith rolled his eyes, unsurprised by the new twist to an old argument.  "Everyone can crack their knuckles.  It's not that gross, you big baby.  Now, do you want me to bring you dinner?"

Opening his mouth, Shiro paused.  Then, slowly, he tilted his head.  "Yes.  But I want..."  He sighed.  "Okay, not now.  But maybe next time we're on a planet somewhere, or a place to shop, it's on me?"

At first, Keith's brow furrowed in confusion.  "I mean, we all pay from the castle funds," he pointed out slowly.  "It's not like-"  Then he froze as Shiro's meaning caught up.

Breath catching, Shiro stared back steadily, fists clenching in his lap.

"You said I wasn't in my right mind, before.  And you're right, I wasn't.  That's now how I would have liked to ask.  But, uh, now that we've been there anyway, I'd like to fill in the parts we missed.  If that's alright with you."  Slowly, Shiro's face went pink, and he pulled his blankets tighter around him.  "Not that- I mean.  Only if you're comfortable with it.  If you aren't interested, you never have to worry that I'll hold it against you or that it'll change anything between us.  Mostly I want you to know it wasn't the product of being out of my head.  I mean, yes, saying something was, but-"

A hand settled on Shiro's still bare chest, starling him into quiet.

Oh.  He'd definitely been rambling there.

Keith regarded him very seriously, silent.  Shiro's breath picked up, chest heaving under Keith's palm.  Like a mirror of how Shiro had counted heartbeats before, reversed but just as fast.  

"You're serious?"  He asked carefully.  "You really want that?"

"Yes," Shiro replied, simple and without force.  Little more than breath.

Keith continued to stare.  Then, slowly, he nodded.  "Okay.  Next time we're on a planet where we can buy dinner, then.  And after that, it's on me.  That good?"

Eyes wide, Shiro nodded wildly.  "Yeah.  That- that's very good.  Excellent.  Um."

Keith had just agreed to go on a date with him.

Keith had just agreed to go on a  _ date _ with  _ him _ .

Slowly, Shiro's face split into a wide smile.  He reached up and placed his hand over Keith's, squeezing gently.  

Eyes crinkling in the corner, Keith smiled back.  "Yeah.  Good."  Then he paused.  "How serious are you about waiting till the third date for anything?  Is that just snark or was it something you really meant?"

"Uh," Shiro blinked.  "Depends on what you want?  And when I'm not, you know, on a medical table in electric blankets."

Cheeks pink, Keith nodded.  "Right.  Yeah.  But after?"

"I'm comfortable moving past that," Shiro said.  "If you are."

Keith flashed him a grin.  Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Shiro, slow and sweet.  Warm.

When he pulled back, Shiro licked his lips.  "Should have just done that after you picked me up.  I would have been fine."

"Don't be ridiculous."  But Keith was still smiling as he pulled back.  "We'll talk.  Dinner first."

"Okay."  Shiro watched him go, giving a little wave as Keith hurried out.  Then he grabbed onto his pillow and flopped onto his back, grinning at the ceiling like an absolute loon.

Who knew that hypothermia was the key to landing Keith?

Shiro should have fallen through some ice ages ago.

And, judging by how fast his heart was going and how warm his cheeks where?  If Shiro fell through more ice right now, he'd be perfectly fine.

Something to keep in mind for next time.

But dinner first.

 


	7. Shiro and Keith spend Christmas together at the Garrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to a similar prompt last year

Keith knocked on the door to Shiro's dorm, double checking his phone to make sure he had the right number.  At least he was unlikely to disturb someone if he was wrong.  The hallway was eerily silent, considering it was normally home to over a hundred Galaxy Garrison seniors.  At the moment, it held a small fraction of that.  The nearby cork board was filled with flyers and decorations, mostly seasonal and neutral.  Snowflakes and Snowmen were pinned jauntily, in direct contradiction to the desert heat outside.

The door in front of Keith clicked, then opened.  Shiro peered through, then offered an easy smile and stepped out of the way.  "Hey.  You're a little early, sorry.  Come on in."

"Thanks," Keith replied, just a touch wary.  

Honestly, he wasn't quite sure why he was here.  Last time he'd spoken to Shiro had been... good.  Better than most times.  Keith had already admitted to himself he couldn't hate Shiro.  He should, since the reason Shiro was assigned to him was to make him be a perfect little golden soldier boy like the man himself.  But Shiro never acted like Keith expected, and-

Well, Shiro was here, and not home with family like nearly everyone else.  Apparently they had something in common, this winter break.

It wasn't a surprise that Shiro's dorm was spotless.  Keith had never seen him without a hair out of place, so why should his living space be any different?  There were two beds, one slightly mused and the other neatly made.    A small screen floated on top of a dresser, currently displaying a computer desktop.  The side of the room with the made bed had a few decorations, bands that Keith didn't recognize and what looked like a movie poster.  The other was completely barren.

Finally, Keith turned to face Shiro.

Then paused. 

"What are you wearing?"

Shiro looked down at himself, brow furrowed.  He had on a loose, old looking t-shirt with some band logo on it,  a slouchy beanie, and a pair of jeans.  Slowly, he looked back over at Keith.  "What about it?"

For a moment, Keith just gestured, not quite having the words to articulate why the clothing was wrong.  "You- you look different."

"Because I'm not wearing the uniform?" Shiro asked, a laugh finally slipping into his voice.  "Neither are you."

No, Keith was wearing his usual not-a-uniform outfit, black pants and a black shirt, but that was different.  "Yeah, but-  I look like me, still.  You don't look like you."

Lips curling up, Shiro rolled his eyes.  "Of course not.  I told you, give them the minimum of what they want, then leave it be.  I look like how I'm expected to look when I have to, and the rest of the time I dress like a normal person."  

That was still too much to process.  He hadn't thought Shiro would dress in the uniform when he didn't have to, but this was different.  He'd expected button downs, maybe with a neat looking sweater.  Slacks, if he had to guess, not jeans.  

"Do I need to change, or will you manage to reorient your world view?" Shiro drawled, one eye raising.  It made the effect of the casual outfit worse, honestly.  "Deep breaths, maybe."

Keith shook his head, collecting himself.  "I'm fine," he replied.  "Sorry."

"Nah, you're fine.  I know it's different.  I think my roommate is the only one who's really seen me dress down, and that's only because he sees me on weekend study binges."  Shiro shrugged and flopped out on his bed.  

...Really?  No one else?  Keith had always assumed Shiro was popular.  He had an easy charm around the other students, a friendliness that Keith utterly lacked.  It was a military institution, the goal was to do the best, and Keith wasn't really great at.. words.

But maybe Shiro was just friendly, not really friends.

Maybe Shiro was a little lonely too.  Keith knew how nasty people could be to anyone who showed them up.  

One more thing they had in common.

"Wanna sit on the bed, or use the chair?"  Shiro nodded to a desk chair along his side of the room.  

Keith pulled over the chair and sat down in it, hands folded in his lap and grabbing at the fabric.  "Did you have a plan, here?" He finally asked.  "I, uh- we said we were going to ignore the date, but I don't know what that means, exactly."

Shrugging, Shiro gestured to the floating screen.  "I've got games and movies," he offered.  "I'd say we could get in some sim practice, but it's totally shut down right now.  All the way off and locked up.  I can get us in, but it'd attract attention.  Not really worth it.  Same for the hangar."

Well, that sucked.  Keith wouldn't have minded getting in some real practice.  Not the way he had to hang back and wait for the rest of the class, but to work with Shiro and just  _ go. _

"I'm good with either of those options," he finally replied, leaning back.  At Shiro's look, he shrugged. "I really don't care.  And I'm the one coming into your space.  Do what you'd normally do, and I can just be here."

That should have been torture, but Shiro was easy to be around.  By now, Keith was used to studying together, so it wouldn't be that much different to watch a movie or something.

Shiro tilted his head, then nodded.  "Alright, here.  I have a couple of games you can play two player.  Let me set it up."  He pulled a controller off his desk and activated the console.  The menu appeared on screen, and after a couple of minutes of fiddling, Shiro reached under his bed for a box, and pulled out a second controller.  "Here."

Accepting it, Keith flipped it over in his hand.  "What game?"

"I have a couple of racing games," Shiro offered.  "As close to the sims as we'll get.  None of them are realistic, but it's still flying around in space."

Keith's brows rose.  "You mean Star Race: Voyages?"

That earned him a grin.  "I have Voyages and Solar Sailing.  Have a preference?"

Unable to help it, Keith shot him a smile.  "I haven't played Solar Sailing in years.  Let's do that one."

With a nod, Shiro loaded the game up.  The familiar music played, and the now outdated graphics flashed previews of the tracks.

Just the sight made Keith's heart feel a little warm.  He'd played hours of this as a child, old even then.  He'd curl up with the tiny screen on the couch while his father worked on - whatever he'd used to do.  As a kid, Keith had just assumed it was grown-up stuff, and so had blocked it out.  Now, Keith wondered if he'd been working on what would eventually take him away.

The thought only slightly soured the bubbling nostalgia.

"Jeez, it's been forever for me too," Shiro grumbled.  He pressed a few buttons hard.  "I have to get used to the old controls again."

Keith grinned.  "Good, it means I'll win."

"I didn't say that.  Which course?"

"Asteroid Belt Battleground."

Shiro snorted and eyed him.  "Now you're just being a dick."

The wording made Keith jolt.  He still wasn't used to Shiro cursing, especially directed at Keith.  He'd called instructors jerks, or said some test or class was bullshit, but nothing like this.

It was different.  Not so much like mentor and reluctant student.  Not like they'd been shoved together by the professors to make Keith be a better wind-up soldier.  Like they were just regular friends.

Keith kind of liked it.

"Gotta press my advantage, right?"

Nose in the air, Shiro turned away.  "Just for that, I'm not going to show you any mercy."

But Keith only snorted.  "You never planned on showing mercy in the first place."

Shiro’s shark grin proved he was right.

The first round, Keith kind of won.  Not really, because the computer actually took first place, and Keith got second, with Shiro trailing in at fourth.

"Rematch," Shiro snarled, sitting up properly.  "I've got it now."

Keith curled up in his chair, knees to his chest just like he had as a kid.  "Sure you do.  Let's see it, then."

The next round, Keith still won, but only after a long lap of trading first and second place.  In the end, Shiro had pulled ahead, but an NPC used a special item that blew him off track, letting Keith take first place.

"That doesn't count," Keith said, shoulders tense.  "You had that one."

Shiro sighed.  "Nah, should have been watching out for that cannon.  I saw it was coming, I just thought I was going to get around the curve fast enough.  You won fair and square.  But next time, I've got you."

So it went, trading back and forth between who won.  It was clear that Keith knew the game better - Shiro finally admitted he had this particular version for collectors completion, rather than a particular fondness for it.  Eventually they switched over to Voyages, where Shiro won three times in a row before Keith finally managed to figure out the updated controls.

Then Shiro's phone buzzed.  He paused and held up it, then sighed.

"Something wrong?" Keith asked, glancing over.  "If you need me to go, I can."

Shiro shook his head.  "Nah, I'd rather do this.  Just family obligation stuff."

Pausing, Keith gave a short nod.  "Oh.  I figured- huh."

"You figured I was alone?" Shiro asked, voice gentling.  He sighed and shrugged.  "Not exactly.  Don't worry about it.  It was just a text.  Another round?"

Keith's shoulders tensed as he looked Shiro over in a new, less flattering light.  Who just ignored their family like that?  If Keith had the chance, he wouldn't toss it aside like it didn't matter.  "What kind of obligation?"

This time, Shiro's brows came together.  "The kind that doesn't matter," he shot back.  "It's not really your business, Keith."

"No, it's not," he said.  Taking a deep breath, Keith shook his head.  "I just didn't expect it of you.  Why are you here instead of with your family, then?"

Shiro put down his controller completely.  "Because there's no point.  We don't celebrate Christmas, and even if I went home, they wouldn't be there."  It was said casually, flatly, but there was something deeper and more complex hidden in his voice.

Even if he'd known Shiro better, Keith wasn't sure he'd be able to figure out what was lurking there.  This really wasn't Keith's strong point.

"Fine.  Sorry."  Keith scrubbed over his face.  "I just hear a lot of, you know, 'oh, my parents did this nice thing, what a pain in the ass'.  It's really-"  He shrugged and looked away, teeth pressed tight to stop more words.  "It's none of my business."

"It's really not," Shiro said, voice still dark.  "But, no, it's not like that."

Finally, Keith swallowed and nodded.  "Okay."  Then he looked back over, finally seeing Shiro's face.

He was holding himself tight, face mostly blank.  It looked out of place with the casual clothes, and the easy smiles Keith had been getting till now.

Maybe he really shouldn't have pushed.  

"Sorry," he murmured.  "I believe you.  I do."

"Thanks," Shiro replied, clearly only slightly mollified.  "I get it.  Honestly, I do.  There are so many spoiled jackasses who don't appreciate anything in this program.   The academy attracts rich brats with just enough brains to think they can do everything in the world.  And you-"  He sighed.  "It's not my business either."

"No, it's not," Keith agreed, with a little more sympathy for Shiro's initial response.  "Yeah, you're not like that.  I was just surprised."

Shiro shrugged.  "I'm a little like that.  Can't say I got in purely on my own merits.  There was the money to pay for good schools and tutors and extracurricular stuff.  I'm an idiot, I know I owe something to them for that.  But that doesn't mean I want to spend the holiday alone in the apartment."  He let out a dark snort.  "Did that the last three years in a row."

Oh.  

Maybe Shiro could be alone in a slightly different way from Keith, but they ended up in the same place.

Right here in Shiro's dorm, playing video games.  

Standing up, Keith moved to sit down on the bed next to Shiro.  There was still a couple of inches between them, just because Shiro had naturally wedged himself against the wall, and Keith was half hanging over the edge.

Which was good.  Keith wasn't really comfortable with being that close.

But this he could do.

Shiro glanced over, eyes wide.  Then, slowly, he nodded.  Thankfully, he didn't comment.  Shiro seemed to have picked up on when Keith really didn't want to talk about something.  He'd push, when it was motivated, but otherwise he let it be.

It was part of what made him so hard to hate.

"Another round?" Keith asked.

Shiro's tilted his head.  "Back to Solar Sailing?"

"Actually, I'm good sticking with this for now.  I want to keep beating you on your home turf."

Slowly, Shiro smiled, smaller than before but warm again.

He understood the implied apology, and it was accepted.

Shiro got it.  Shiro was slowly learning to speak Keith's language, but he'd respected it even before he had.

Maybe someday, Keith would tell Shiro about being alone.  Maybe someday, Shiro would tell Keith about what his obligation was.

But it didn't need to be today.

Today was video games, and ignoring the Christmas cheer outside.

That was a language they both spoke.   
  



	8. Shunkeith - Hunk has to spend the night when they're snowed in

_ "No state of emergency has been declared yet, but police are advising everyone stay home and off the highways for the next day," the weatherman said, gesturing behind him to the green screened map of the area.  "Especially everywhere west of 70, where we think will get the highest amount of snow.  We had some melt today when we briefly went over freezing, and that's already begun hardening back into ice-" _

The TV muted suddenly.  Starting, Hunk turned to frown at Keith.  "Hey!  I was listening to that."

"It's the same as it's been since before dinner," Keith replied.  "Nothing is going to change.  And even if they did suddenly say everything was fine, you wouldn't feel comfortable driving back this late and in these conditions."

Groaning, Hunk scrubbed over his face.  "I know," he admitted.  "I just-  You know how it is."

"You're better off closing the bakery anyway," Keith continued, settling next to Hunk.  "You said so yourself.  There won't be any customers when it's this nasty out."

"We have people who live close enough to walk," Hunk muttered back, but he nodded again.  He'd spent all of dinner talking himself into a storm over if he should chance driving back home from the orchard.  Normally, Hunk didn't even like night driving, and the conditions outside were far worse.  But even if the shop was doing better lately, it was still a blow to have to take days off.  Lance was salaried, so he wouldn't regret the day off, but Hunk still had to pay rent and he had supplies in the fridge that were going to go back if the power was out, and-

Sighing, Keith soothed a hand up and down Hunk's back.  "Hey.  It's okay.  I promise you, you'll be okay.  If you want, when it gets better, we'll drive back with you and help with anything you need.  Alright?  And you said yourself business has been good.  One day off won't hurt."

"But what if it's not just one day?"  Hunk muttered back.

"It's supposed to get up to 40 on Tuesday," Keith reminded.  "And by then, the plows will have gotten through.  We don't get multiple snow days in this area, you know that."

It was true, just-

There was no 'just'.  Hunk was working himself up for nothing.  He couldn't seem to help it.

So he held out his arms, silently asking.  

Luckily, Keith had never needed words.  He slotted himself against Hunk easily, pulling him down so his head rested on Keith's shoulder.  "You're fine," Keith said.  "Everything is fine.  Lance will thank you for the day off, and once everyone comes out of hibernation on Tuesday, they'll all be craving some holiday treats.  Okay?"

"Okay," Hunk replied.  He wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, pulling him flush.  He was warm and solid, surprisingly sturdy and weighty for being so much smaller.  Like a rock in a rushing river, something to hold onto while he waited out the worst of it.  "Thank you."

Soft, dry lips pressed against Hunk's cheek.  "You're welcome.  More than.  That's what I'm here for.  Besides, it's not all bad, right?"

Hunk smiled into Keith's shirt.  "No, not at all.  I don't mind getting to spend an extra day with you two.  How are the hills for sledding, here?"

"They'd be pretty good if we had a sled," Keith replied, laughing softly.  "Maybe we can improvise something. It'll go easier if you can help me convince Shiro to join in."

Pausing, Hunk picked up his head, lips curled.  "Shiro's not a snow day guy?"

Keith rolled his eyes hard.  "You've heard him bitching about the cold, right?  He spent most of his formative years in LA.  He acts like cold weather is personally out to get him."

Huh.  "I heard him complaining about the cold being bad for the bees," Hunk admitted.  "Not bad for him."

"He's being good for you, probably," Keith replied.  "I bet that breaks down tonight, with how cold it's getting."

Well, the negatives were nothing to sneeze at.  Hunk had a lot of sympathy for Shiro's low tolerance.  He'd grown up on warm beaches, and snow had been a complete novelty the first winter he'd been in the city.  Since then, it was more of a bother.  He'd always wanted to enjoy it more, but it was never nice snow downtown.  Within a couple of hours it was a dirty, speckled, slushy mess.  Here, though, it was downright picturesque.

At least, it had been when it was light out enough to see.  Now, not so much.

As if summoned by their conversation, the backdoor opened.  Shiro stepped through, shaking his head hard to get the snow off his hat.  He had on several layers, including a thick winter coat and the hoodie he'd yet to give back to Hunk.  "Brrr.  Eugh.  Okay, the hives are all wrapped up.  That should help them.  They're all sizable and healthy, so they'd probably be alright."

"Whatever makes you feel better," Keith replied.  "So you don't run out at 2 AM again, and then shove your freezing feet in bed."

Shiro just grinned and pulled off his gloves.  "You're so warm, it's your own fault for being such a good heater.  Officially a no-go on heading back, Hunk?"

Nodding, Hunk picked his head up to watch Shiro undress.  "Yeah, at least tomorrow.  We'll see how it is Tuesday.  I might be able to open for the afternoon."

Once he'd shrugged off his outer gear, Shiro settled on the couch next to Hunk and smoothed up and down his back.  "I'm sorry you have to keep the bakery closed.  You alright?"

Hunk smiled back, squeezing Keith tighter.  "I'm better now."

"Good.  Keith makes for a very good stuffed animal, don't you, babe?"  He leaned over and pressed a quick peck to the top of Keith's head.

The flat look Keith shot back made Hunk laugh, pushing away the last dregs of his worry.

Shiro tugged slightly on Hunk's shoulder, until he turned to look at him properly.  Then he pressed a kiss to Hunk's lips, then under both his eyes, and finally his forehead.  "You're just fine," he told him, low and warm.  "And we're glad to keep you here for another day, even if the reason is unfortunate.  Want hot chocolate?"

Pausing, Hunk considered him.  "What kind?"

"Uh," Shiro blinked, as if confused by the question. "The kind with the little marshmallows in the packet?"

Hunk shivered.  "No.  You still have powdered cocoa from when I made those chocolate muffins?"

Shooting Keith a quick glance, Shiro shrugged.  "I haven't touched it, so I assume so."

"Good."  With that, Hunk finally let go of Keith and stood.  "I'll make hot chocolate."

Shiro's expression fell.  "I can make it," he offered instantly.  "You really don't have to, especially when you're the one upset.  I'll pay attention to it, just give me a few minutes to look up a recipe online, alright?"

Softening, Hunk kissed him back.  "No, I want to."  When Shiro opened his mouth again, Hunk put a finger on his lips, stilling him instantly.  "Seriously.  I want something else to focus on.  Hot cocoa will distract me for at least a few minutes.  Just let me."

"Alright," Shiro allowed, visibly relaxing.  "We still have another bag of the kettle corn you like, too.  We can do a quick movie.  Something holiday, since we're getting all this snow?"

Hunk relaxed further and nodded.  "Yeah, I'd like that.  Can I trust you with a bag of microwave popcorn?"

"I'm not that bad!"  Shiro's bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout.  "You press the button on the machine, I can handle that."

Laughing, Hunk shook his head and stepped into the kitchen.

He had to admit, Hunk adored the set up here.  It might not have all of Hunk's equipment, and the appliances were nearly two decades old.  But everything in here was solid and a little old fashioned, built to withstand the ages.  Everything was made out of warm woods, scratched and dented and well-loved.

Smoothing his hand over the counter, Hunk started to open cabinets to pull out the right supplies, as he began to heat up the milk.

Just by the door, he heard Keith let out a yelp.  "Shiro!"

"What?"

"Your hand is freezing.  Both of them, but literally for one of them."

There was a long pause. "Oh, right."  The clatter of Shiro removing his prosthetic was almost soothing.  It was like hearing someone brush their teeth from the bedroom.  Comfortingly domestic, in a slightly intimate way.  "Better?"

"Still cold, but better."

Shiro wandered into the kitchen next.  Hunk's hoodie gaped loosely on his right side, and he gave a tiny wave with the stump.  At first, he'd been self-conscious of it, but there was only so many times they could sleep in the same bed without it before it became too normal.  With practiced ease, he moved to the pantry and ripped the popcorn packaging open with his teeth.  Then he tossed it into the microwave and it the popcorn setting.  "Ta-da."

Brows up, Hunk smiled. "Don't congratulate yourself yet.  It hasn't cooked yet, it can still burn."

"That was only once."  Despite his playful complaining, Shiro plastered himself to Hunk's back, hooking his chin over a shoulder to watch.  "The cocoa powder stuff is what's in the packets we have?"

"And a lot of sugar," Hunk replied.  "It's better when you can add a little dark chocolate.  I'll bring some next time.  For now, a dash of vanilla and a little nutmeg will do."

Humming, Shiro pressed his nose into Hunk's neck.  There was still a chill to his skin from being outside too long.  "Sounds good to me," Shiro replied.  He didn't move.

Hunk smiled at his pot.  "Are you only here because I'm warm and Keith is complaining?"

"No," Shiro replied, drawing the word out.  "Keith complaining doesn't stop me.  I pick you because I want to snuggle you."  He paused.  "And the oven is warm."

"There it is."

"But mostly because I love you."

Hunk smiled softly, the words churning warmly in his stomach as if he'd already chugged the hot chocolate.  "I love you too."

Shiro pressed a kiss to Hunk's jaw.  "Good.  'Cause coming all the way out here just for sex would be a lot of work on your part."

"I don't just do it for sex," Hunk shot back.  "I also do it for your honey."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Shiro pressed their cheeks together.  "I bet you do.  You want some sugar."

Hunk grinned, turning around to kiss him properly.  "Oh, that's a pretty good one!"

"It's not bad, yeah."  Shiro beamed at him, eyes warm and molten.  But the shrill alarm of the microwave made him jump.  "Oh, right.  That."  He wandered over and pulled it out of the microwave, holding it so the steam could vent.  "If I open the paper part with my teeth, will you be grossed out?"

"I'm a chef, so no.  I taste from the spoon I cook with, sometimes."

Shiro paused.  "You do?  That's kind of gross."  He considered.  "Does that mean we're technically kissing when I eat your food?"

Shrugging, Hunk turned back to the hot chocolate.  "I suppose so.  Does this mean you never taste anything you're cooking?  That explains too much."

Making a soft, wounded noise, Shiro put down the bag so he could get out a bowl, then took hold of one tab with his teeth to yank it open.  "You're very mean.  You seem all nice and sweet but you're secretly ruthless."

Hunk smiled back.  "That's me.  What movie did you guys pick out?"

"Uh-"  Shiro perked, eyes bright.  "Actually, you can help with that.  We've been arguing about this all week.  The Grinch - class animated version or the terrible Jim Carrey abomination?"

"I suspect this question wording might be biased."

Shiro stuck his nose in the air.  "My polling is all completely fact based.  I don't ask leading questions, just make sure you have full knowledge going in."

Considering him, Hunk tapped his finger on the counter.  "Live action.  Just because you're trying to push me."

"Hunk!"  Shiro groaned, dismayed.

"Told you!" Keith's voice floated back, purely smug.

Hunk laughed, openly amused at them both.  With a last check of the cocoa, he poured some into three mugs, and let the rest stay in the pot on the stove.  If they needed more, they could warm it back up.  "Ready?"

"Yeah, ready."  Shiro held up the popcorn as proof.  

Settling in on the couch, with Keith pressed smug and warm in one side, and Shiro a playfully sulking teddy bear on the other, Hunk settled in.

Between the two of them, he really didn't need the hot cocoa to stay warm.

(But that didn't mean he wasn't going to drink it.)

 


	9. Ryou's First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to VelkynKarma for helping me plot this.

Ryou rolled over onto his stomach, clutching his pillow to his chest.  His alarm had gone off about ten minutes ago, and he should be getting up now.  It was a habit leftover from Shiro, but not one he'd wanted to break just yet.  It wasn't like he slept any better, after all.  

But last night he'd managed a decent sleep, and it was making him lazy.  There was no drive to get up and abandon his warm nest under the blankets.  If he took an extra half an hour, what did it matter?  There were no instructors to come in and bark at him, and no alarms blaring to drag him out.  Since he wasn't the Black Paladin, and he was sharing duties with Hunk, there was so much less work pressing down on him.

So Ryou pressed his face into his pillow and took a deep breath, luxuriating in his few extra moments of relaxation.

Until there was a knock at the door.

Ryou cracked open one eye to stare.  A quick check of his wall console proved that it was still early in the morning.  Who would be up at this hour?

Well, Shiro, true.  But he'd never knocked on Ryou's door so early.  Morning for Shiro was solitary time, for jogging and paperwork.  And it was true that Coran occasionally haunted the halls at this hour.  He claimed the castle was more adapted for humans than Alteans these days, but Allura seemed to have no trouble adjusting.  So that was probably a lie.  

Either way, neither of them should be at Ryou's room at 05:30 castle time.

As he stared, there was another knock, this time more insistent.

Well, alright, then.

Ryou kicked off his covers, shuddering dramatically at the cold.  Eugh.  The first touch of his bare feet against the floor was a shock as well.  Ryou glanced at his clothes, considering how much energy it would take to get clothed.  Wearing just boxers wasn't especially dignified, after all.  But it was most likely Shiro outside, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen it all before.  So Ryou rubbed over one palm over his eye and trudged over to the console.  He smacked it impatiently, then made a face as the metal opened.  "What's up?" 

It was not Shiro on the other side.

It was Lance and Hunk.

They were both wearing their pajamas and looked suspiciously awake.  Lance had a bundle of something draped in his arms, and Hunk had what looked like a very old fashioned video camera in his hands, a cheerful red light visible on the side.  

Which meant it was recording Ryou right now.

"Hey!"  He reached out, blocking the lens with one palm.  "Warn a guy, would you?"

Lance snorted.  "We've seen it all before, Mr. Push-me-into-the-fountain.  Anyway, we had to!  It's an important day!"

Blinking slowly, Ryou glanced between them both.  "Why's that?"

Hunk lowered the camera, both so Ryou wasn't blocking it and to shoot him a grin.  "It's your very first Christmas!  We have to capture this special moment."

It took several long seconds for that to compute.  Then Ryou turned on his heel and started back for the door.  "I'm going back to bed."

"No way!"  Lance reached out and caught Ryou around the waist.  He tugged, trying to pull him back, but Ryou planted his feet.  He tried for several more seconds, tugging as hard as he could, but then settled for being a dead weight.  "Don't you want to see what Santa got you?"

Ryou paused.  "You said we weren't going to do presents."  He'd taken them at their word and hadn't prepared anything.  Had it been a polite lie that Ryou was supposed to ignore?  That stuff wasn't fair!

"It's not from us," Hunk insisted.  "It's from Santa.  Don't you want to see?"

Finally, Ryou turned back around.  He planted one hand on Lance's forehead and gently pushed him back.  Really, he wished he'd put on sweatpants at least.  Ryou didn't have Shiro's scars, but he did have the ugly, raised handprint on his thigh.  It was something he didn't need them thinking about.  "You guys really got up early just for this?"

"Yup," Hunk said.  He grinned from behind the camera.

"Of course," Lance agreed.   "This is such a big occasion.  Our little Ryou's first Christmas.  They grow up so fast!"  He made a quiet choking noise, just barely suppressing a snicker.

The ass.

There was a quiet knock on the door frame.  When Ryou looked over, Shiro was standing there.  He nodded, smile bland. "You should encourage this.  Anything that gets Lance up on time is a good thing."

"Don't get used to it," Lance said, flapping an uncaring hand.

Ryou narrowed his eyes at Shiro.  That Shiro was awake wasn't a surprise, but it was strange for him to be here.

  
  


It meant he'd been involved in planning this.

Which also meant it was likely his idea.

Oh, Ryou was going to get him back for this.

"There's really a present?" He asked.

Lance nodded.  "Yeah, Santa really brought you something."

Sighing, Ryou eyed him.  "No, he did not.  Santa isn't real."

"What?"  Hunk placed a dramatic hand on his chest, mouth open in pure offense.  "Who told you such a nasty lie?"

"It's not-"  Ryou held up a hand, physically stopping himself.  "Alright.  Fine.  Can I get dressed, first."  He wasn't going to be an ass if they'd gotten him a present.  Though, really, he wished they'd just told him they were doing this.  He'd have gotten them something back.  This uneven exchange was damn annoying.

Lance held out the fabric he'd been carrying.  It unraveled, until Ryou could see it was an adult sized version of the yellow lion onesie that Lance had made him during the  _ incident. _  "Get dressed in this."

Ryou only stared.  "Why?"

"It's your first Christmas," Hunk chirped.  "You should wear comfy pajamas for the occasion."

This had spiraled completely out of control.  Ryou glared at Shiro, who had a hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter.  The absolute ass.

Really, Ryou should tell them to get out of his room and go back to his warm nest.  But he'd been awake anyway - which Shiro would have known, the jerk - and this was sweet.  In an obnoxious way.

"Shiro doesn't get one too?" Ryou asked, just to be an ass.  He accepted the onesie with as much dignity as he could muster.

Snorting, Shiro shook his head.  "No, I-"

"Of course he does," Lance interrupted, smirking wider.  "We just haven't gotten it yet."

"What?"

"Perfect," Ryou replied, smiling brightly.  "I'll meet you in the rec room, then?"

Lance gave him a thumbs up, then turned on his heel and shoved Shiro out the door.  "C'mon, we didn't leave you out."

Jaw set, Shiro sighed.  "You really shouldn't have."

"And leave out big brother?  Never."

Hunk gave Ryou a last cheerful wave and followed the pair of them out.  "See you in a bit."

Then Ryou was left alone in his room.  He was in his boxers, cold, up at an unnecessary hour, and holding a neon yellow lion onesie.

"Still not the weirdest thing to happen to me," he admitted to the dark room.  "Not the weirdest thing this week."

With that, Ryou started to pull on the pajamas.

***

Twenty minutes later, Ryou was seated on the floor in front of the pseudo-Christmas Tree that the team had put together for the holiday.  He stared at the camera in open dislike as Hunk and Lance continued their ridiculous charade.

"Look!" Lance cried.  He picked a plate off the table and held it like he was a pretty prize girl on a daytime game show.  "The cookies have a bite in them!  Santa must have been here."

Hunk reached out and picked up a half eaten carrot.  He held it up for the camera.  "And the reindeer got their treats, too."

"The reindeer have suspiciously human teeth," Ryou drawled.

The door opened, and Shiro trudged in, wearing the black version of the lion pajamas and looking deeply unhappy.  He glared at them all and made a beeline for the couch.

But Lance turned in place and put his feet on the cushions, blocking him.  "Why don't you go sit next to your little brother?  You should be in the video too."

"I would rather not."

"Yeah, Shiro, come sit next to me."  Ryou held out his arms dramatically.  If he had to suffer through this, Shiro was going down with him.  Ryou swore it.

Scowling, Shiro crossed his arms.  The effect of the black lion onesie did not help things.  His lacked the wings his child-sized version had, just like Ryou no longer had the plush claws.  It was probably for the best.  Having a joking weapon would only make Ryou too likely to use them.

Shiro groaned, then trudged over and sat down.  He leaned to the side so Ryou couldn't wrap him in a vicious embrace.  "Did you give him his present, yet?"

"We were waiting for you," Hunk replied.  He handed the camera to Lance, then dug under the couch and retrieved a present.  It was wrapped in glossy white paper, with a huge, silvery bow on it.

Alright, Ryou had to admit they'd done a great job appealing to his tastes.

Hunk set the present down in front of Ryou, then put his hand on it.  "Wait just one second, alright?"  Then he turned around and retrieved another box, this one with black wrapping paper.

"That's- you didn't."  Shiro blinked owlishly as it was set in front of him.  "That's really not necessary."

"Of course it is," Lance replied.  He leaned to the side so he could still get a good shot of them all.  "It's your first Christmas sharing with your new brother.  We don't want you to get jealous or feel like we love your brother more."

Ryou grinned and leaned in closer to Shiro.  "But they totally love me more."

Eyes narrowed, Shiro reached over and gave Ryou a good punch on the shoulder.

"Ow!"  Ryou stuck out his bottom lip, eyes big for the camera.  "Shiro is abusing me."

"Want to see some real abuse?"

Hunk put his hands on his hips and glared down at them both.  Despite the obvious ridiculousness of the whole situation, Ryou curled in on himself.   Hunk had the special ability to make Ryou actually feel bad for the silly jokes.  "Are you boys going to fight on Christmas?"

"No," Shiro muttered back, utterly reluctant.  He crossed his arms but didn't try to retaliate anymore.  "But you should have told me you were getting me a present."

Hunk only arched an eyebrow back.  "I didn't.  Santa did.  Neither of you are being very good listeners.  Now, Ryou gets to open his present first, since it's his first Christmas."

"No it's not," Ryou replied.

From the couch, Lance snorted.  "Shiro's don't count."

"I'm not counting Shiro's!  I was alive last Christmas, I was just asleep in a goop tube in Haggar's lab.  So it's my second Christmas."

There was a long silence.

Ryou looked up to see Lance and Hunk both staring at him in horror.  "What?  It's true."

"He does have a point," Shiro agreed.  "Though, are you sure you were asleep that long?"

"My hair was a foot and a half long, it had to be a year."

"You're the same age as me, so clearly they took some shortcuts."

Ryou pressed his lips thin and picked up the present.  "It's my second.  Don't encourage them."  Then he arched a brow at Lance and Hunk.  "Should I open this now?"

Clearing his throat, Lance nodded.  "Yeah.  Uh, go for it.  Merry Christmas.  Shiro, you can open yours when Ryou is done."

Ryou glanced up, his brows raised.  His fingers dug under the seam of the paper, then paused.  He peeled the tape away as slowly as he could manage, careful not to rip any of the paper.

At first, Shiro sat still, watching him.  Then he shifted in place as Ryou never picked up speed, peeling back the paper flaps with glacial speed.  It only took until the present was half unwrapped for Shiro to groan.  "C'mon, enough.  Hurry up."

"Patience yields focus."

Shiro's eyes narrowed dangerously.  

"Actually, you may want to hurry up," Hunk offered.  "The camera only has memory for a couple of hours of footage."

Brows up, Ryou stared at him.  "Oh, no.  What a tragedy."

But they had gone to all this trouble just for him, so Ryou finally ripped the paper off and opened the lid.  Inside was a pair of mittens, thick and plush, with stuffed claws on the edge.

"Hey, cool!"  Ryou pulled them on and grinned.  They bunched his top for fingers together like boxing gloves, thick and padded like he could actually swing at someone with them.  He tested the claws on his cheeks, enjoying how soft they were.

Then he turned and punched Shiro in the arm.  Hard.

"Shit!"  Shiro leaned back, scowling.  "Ryou!"

"I'm just getting you back."

Hunk crossed his arms.  "Boys!"

Both of them stilled again, caught out and sulky.  "He hit me first," Ryou muttered.  He didn't even care how childish it was, because this whole situation was childish.

Shiro scowled back as he picked up his present.  He glanced once more at Hunk and Lance, offering them a smile.  Then he tore into his own present, lips already curled up warmly.

His present turned out to be a small backpack, not suitable for anything larger than a tech pad.  But it had a pair of plush wings attached to it, like his child-sized onesie had sported.

"Nice," Shiro breathed, running his fingers along the edges.  "This is very sweet of you both.  Thank you."

Lance smiled back at them, eyes bright.  "Don't thank us.  Thank Santa.  But we're glad you enjoy them.  Especially when you're not hitting each other."

"They're boxing gloves, I'm supposed to hit people with them."  Ryou gave a couple of dramatic punches in the air, getting a feel for his toys.  "But they're really cool.  Even if it's probably not worth Santa killing himself for."

Hunk stilled. "What now?"

Gesturing to the table, Ryou shrugged.  "You said Santa and the reindeer came.  But we're in open space.  So if they were real, they suffocated."

Lance rolled his eyes and set down the camera.  "Or they have space suits.  Duh."

"Reindeer space suits?  How do the helmets work?"

"We've seen aliens with weirder head shapes," Hunk pointed out.  "They manage just fine.  Santa is just fine.  He took a little detour to make sure you had a good first Christmas."

"Second Christmas," Ryou shot back.  "Besides, Santa isn't real.  It's mathematically impossible for him to deliver presents as needed.  There's, what, 10 billion people living on Earth?  We'll be general and say that 20 percent are 12 and younger.  Assuming Santa only gives one present per child, that's still 2 billion presents in a night.  Taking into account that nighttime is relative, that's still..."  He paused as he did some quick mental math.  "That's over 1.3 million presents a second."

Hunk set his jaw and crossed his arms.  "It's not impossible if Santa works on a quantum level.  It only says he delivers the presents, not that he's physically there."

"You always do this! You can't explain away ever questionable thing with 'it's quantum, just accept it.'"

"Watch me!"

Lance groaned and flopped back on the couch.  "Do you have to math?  It's Christmas, stop mathing."

"Math is the best part of Christmas," Shiro offered.  "I've never celebrated, but I used to keep an eye on NORAD's Santa tracker.  It's cute."

Slowly, Lance pushed himself back up.  "Wait.  So you're saying this is your first Christmas too?"

Shiro scowled.  "No.  No way!  It's unavoidable in the US, don't pretend I never experienced it.  And I was around for Christmas on the castle last year.  Don't start with me, Lance."

"I don't know, are those really your first Christmas?"

"Yeah, Shiro," Ryou agreed.  His smile showed far too many teeth.  "You should celebrate your first Christmas with me."

"Make me."

Ryou held up his clawed gloves.  "I'd love to."

Hunk groaned and scrubbed over his face.  "Why are you both like this?  How about you eat cookies for breakfast and stop fighting."

Hm, on one hand, fighting was fun.  On the other, cookies.  Ryou may not be able to taste them, but he liked the way they smelled and the texture.

"Alright," Shiro agreed.  He stood and offered Ryou a hand up.  

"Good."  Lance hopped up and snagged the camera back off the table.  "Let's eat some cookies."

Before he could start for the kitchen, Ryou surged forward and caught him in a hug.  He gave Lance a firm squeeze, then moved onto Hunk for the same treatment.  "I know it was from 'Santa', but you can pass on my thank you, right?"

Hunk hugged him back tightly.  "Yeah. We can do that."

"I should say thank you too."  Once Ryou pulled away, Shiro wrapped his arms around Hunk as well, then Lance.

The pair of them beamed.  "We'll be sure to let Santa know," Lance assured them. "C'mon, I'm ready for my cookies."

As Hunk and Lance pulled ahead, Ryou slowed to walk next to Shiro.  "So, was this your idea?"

"I may have mentioned this would be your first winter holiday ever," Shiro admitted, his grin smug.  "The rest of it they came up with all on their own."

Ryou sighed dramatically.  "You're such an ass.  But I guess I owe you a thank you too."  He held out his arms in offer.

Expression soft, Shiro leaned in to give Ryou a hug.

Only to yelp when Ryou's plush claws hit his stomach. "Hey!"

Ryou cackled and set off in a sprint.  "Sucker!"

"Get back here!  I'm going to kick your ass!"

"Good luck with that!"

Ryou grinned, even as Shiro caught up to him and yanked him into a headlock.

All in all?  Not a bad first (second) Christmas at all.


	10. Old Friends Senior Dog Sanctuary AU continuation - Calendar photoshoot

"Okay," Shiro said slowly, looking out over the rented equipment.  Pidge and Hunk had gotten together to help their photographer set up the lights and camera.  So far, none of the dogs seemed to be especially bothered by the commotion.  A few came over to sniff and investigate, but the chilly weather had driven most inside back onto the couch.  So there was that, at least.   
  
Lance looked over, sporting a clipboard, an iPad, and a bright smile.  "Yes, Shiro?" He asked, all studied innocence.   
  
"I get the calendar," Shiro said.  "The calendar makes sense.  It's a good way to raise money for charity and to show the dogs we have who need forever homes.  That part is good."   
  
Beaming, Lance held his armfull to his chest.  "I'm glad you agree.  We got so many requests for a calendar that it seemed silly not to at least think about it."   
  
Shiro held up his hand, stalling Lance's chatter.  "Yeah, good idea.  But what does that have to do with this?"  He held up the tight black shirt that the photographer had shoved into his hands just a few minutes ago.   
  
Lance shrugged.  "Well, you need an outfit for the photos, right?"   
  
"No, I don't," Shiro said.  "The shirt I have is perfectly fine for standing by and making sure the dogs are comfortable."   
  
"Shiro, I told you that you were going to be involved."  Lance eyed him, brows up and severe.  He looked terrifyingly like the librarian in Shiro's high school who had believed every student was going to run off with her books and never return.  "What did you think I meant?"   
  
"What I just said," Shiro replied.  "Working with the dogs.  Doing my job.  Maybe helping to pick out what dogs should be in which shots."   
  
Lance pressed his hand to his face and slowly dragged it down.  "No, Shiro, I meant you were going to be in the photos."  With a flat glare, he pulled out his iPad and started to flip through something.  Then he handed it over.  "Read the comments."   
  
It was the original post about offering a 2018 calendar.  Shiro's brows rose as he started to scroll down.  The first few were exactly what Shiro would have expected.  Talking about wanting to buy a copy, getting some for friends, happy to support the organization-   
  
'It'll include the hot owner too, right?  You know, for charity.'   
  
The comment had well over a thousand likes, and a couple hundred comments.  A few were scolding, either telling them not to objectify Shiro or reminding them it was about the dogs, not thirst.  But the vast, vast majority were agreements.  Some responses were only emojis, including lots of eggplants, faces with the tongue stuck out, and water drops.   
  
Shiro swallowed and shoved the pad back at Lance.  "Oh."   
  
"Yeah," Lance drawled.  "Oh.  So, we figured you could at least be in a couple.  February would be nice, maybe getting kisses from the dogs.  And another for later in the year.  The summer maybe, or November."  He paused, then pointed a finger at Shiro.  "You still have that little costume you put on Black this year?"   
  
"The angel wings?  Yeah, somewhere, I think."  Shiro frowned thoughtfully, distracted by the change in topic.  Then he shook his head hard.  "You- seriously?  You really want...?"  He looked at the pad again.  "They know about this?"  He held out the prosthetic.   
  
Lance nodded.  "Oh, yeah, they know.  Shiro, if you really don't want to, don't worry about it.  But you being in the photos always nets us a few hundred more likes than average.  There's a whole lot of middle aged women out there who would love to have a calendar of an attractive man, but with the dogs and charity as an excuse.  Only a couple of shots.  Please?"   
  
This was-     
  
On one hand, the entire thing was baffling.  Once, Shiro had taken a lot of pride in his appearance.  He had a good mix of delicate and strong features, and he could be plenty charming when he wanted to be.  That had gone away when he'd come back from service with his face scared and his arm gone.  Now, people didn't really look at Shiro's jawline or eyes anymore.  It was his nose or his metal arm.  He wasn't attractive anymore, he was a curiosity.     
  
On the other hand, it was clear there was a market, and wasn't raising money for the charity the most important thing?   
  
Especially when over a thousand people were willing to publicly throw their (very thirsty) support behind the idea?   
  
Shiro shifted from foot to foot, carefully considering.  Then he finally took a deep breath and nodded.  "Alright.  At least one.  But not on the cover, alright?  Those comments were right.  This is about the dogs first."   
  
"Perfect."  Lance beamed at him and knocked their shoulders together.  "It'll be tasteful, I promise."   
  
"By who's definition?" Shiro asked.   
  
Hand on his chest, Lance stuck out his bottom lip.  "Rude.  C'mon, I know what the people like.  That's my job.  It's the thing you literally pay me for, Boss Man.  Besides, it doesn't have to be just you.  I'm definitely getting Hunk in there for one.  The Red Cross has a Pet First Aid month in April, so that'll be good for him.  And I'm taking Juen for sure.  We'll bring out the wading pool."   
  
Shiro frowned.  "It's a little cool for that.  Not too long."  That earned him a nod, so he sighed. "Not Pidge, alright?  I mean, if she really wants to, I guess, but... I'm friends with her dad.  I have to look Sam in the eye next time I see him.  I'd rather not have to explain why I put his daughter in a sexy dog calendar."   
  
Nose crinkled, Lance shook his head.  "Please never call it a sexy dog calendar again.  It's only a little sexy, and never with the dogs."   
  
"Agreed."   
  
"I'll talk to her about it.  I think she'll want to bow out anyway.  I'm not even going to bother to ask Keith.  I don't feel like getting stabbed."  Lance held his clipboard in front of him, as if to fend off Keith's imaginary attack.   
  
Shiro watched, unimpressed.  "Keith wouldn't stab you for asking.  He's never stabbed anybody."   
  
"Are you sure?" Lance asked, glancing around conspiratorially.    
  
Brow up, Shiro nodded.  "Pretty damn sure, yeah.  I technically employ you guys, remember?  I did background checks.  I knew I wasn't going to find anything, but better to do due diligence than have problems later.  It's a charity, I want to have my paperwork done."   
  
"You have my background?" Lance perked.  "What'd it say?  What's in my background check?"   
  
"Confidential."   
  
"It's my background!"   
  
"It's my business."   
  
"Shiro!"   
  
***   
  
Two hours later, Shiro was shivering in the thin black tank top. "Can we do this quickly, before I freeze to death?"   
  
"It's not that bad," Pidge called, rolling her eyes.  She was decked out in the winter gear they'd just finished shooting her in, so she had exactly zero room to talk.  Especially since she had Rosie the golden doodle snoozing away on her legs.  "You might want to pick Black up a little bit higher, though."   
  
Shiro shifted his grip on Black, who continued to survey the lawn/studio with all the contented ownership of a queen.  All was well in her realm, even as Shiro struggled to hold her not insignificant weight.  "Okay, like that?  Was she not in the shot?"   
  
Pointing to his chest, Lance grinned.  "You could see some stuff through your shirt."   
  
Oh.  Shiro looked down, and indeed, he could see his body reacting to the cold.  He groaned and cradled Black closer, only to have to spit out black fur when she shifted.   
  
"Okay, the shot looks good."  The photographer pulled back, head tilted.  She looked over the cheesy fake heart behind them both with a critical eye.  "Actually, the flower collar is a little crooked on the dog.  Can someone get that?"   
  
"I got it."  Keith stepped over carefully to avoid stepping on any of the props.  He gently straightened the rows of fake flowers.  "What about the crown on Shiro?  That good?  It's off too."   
  
"It's fine, the angle gives it character."  The photographer waved Keith back.  With a final, comforting smile, Keith ducked back behind the camera.   
  
Lucky bastard.   
  
Once everything was settled again, Shiro offered the camera a smile.  "Just let me know when to get Black started."   
  
"Now is good."   
  
Show time then.  "Black," Shiro called, voice pitched up and encouraging.  Her tag started to wag as her ears perked.  "Kisses!"   
  
Obediently, Black leaned forward and pressed her nose to Shiro's cheek, just as she was trained.  It was Shiro's absolute favorite trick, and never failed to make his chest feel like it was melting.  And why not?  His dog was trained to give cheek kisses.  It was the cutest thing ever.   
  
There were a couple of clicks from the camera, but this wasn't what Shiro was supposed to get for the shoot.  So instead he turned and gave Black a kiss on the tip of her wet nose.  At first, Black reared back, eyes wide with shock.  No matter how many times he did it, she still seemed shocked by the touch.  Then she came back forward and lapped wetly up the side of Shiro's face.  He laughed, camera forgotten, as she licked a huge wet stripe over his ear.  "Eugh!"  But the tone was anything but discouraging, so Black continued to lick and wag her tail.   
  
It was a bad habit, and Shiro really shouldn't be so good at egging her into licking.  But he couldn't help it.  Doggie kisses were too sweet, and Black seemed to like giving them.  She'd chase his face all over the couch so she could continue to lap.  It was probably because he reacted so positively and because skin was salty, not because Black understood that Shiro thought of it as kisses.  Even so, how was he supposed to seriously tell her no?   
  
Actually, telling Black 'no' in general was a hard task.   
  
"Okay, these look good," the photographer called.  "Let's try some with you sitting down.  I don't think the photos of you dropping your dog will sell very well."   
  
"I won't drop her.  Will I, girl?  You like being picked up, don't you?  I'm very good at this."  Shiro made a kissy face at Black, then burst into delighted laughter as she licked over his nose.  "Gross, Black, that can't taste good."   
  
The photographer looked on blandly.  "Just for options, then, alright?  Were there other dogs we wanted in this shoot?"   
  
"I've got 'em."  Keith wandered off, and returned with a fluffy white older dog with a pink ribbon around her neck.   
  
Shiro beamed at her, shifting so Black was sitting his his lap and he could hold a hand out.  "Don't you look pretty, Lady?"   
  
Lady's tail wagged, a dignified little twitch, and she plopped down contentedly next to him to rest her head on his knee.  She wasn't so much of a cuddler, so Shiro just used his free hand to pet over her head while Black continued to lick over his ear like it was a treat.  "How's this?"   
  
"Good." The photographer went back to work, quickly snapping photos.   
  
Chuckling, Lance held up his phone and snapped a picture.  "Our very own ladies man."   
  
"Hah."   
  
"I'm totally posting this.  You know that, right?  Gotta drum of excitement for the calendars themselves."   
  
Ah, boy. Shiro sighed dramatically, only to giggle again when Black rested her head on top of his.  "Yeah, fine.  Go for it."   
  
They went through a few other poses, including letting Black play with a squeaky toy shaped like a heart.  Lady snoozed through most of it, not seeming to care at all about the commotion.   
  
By the end, Shiro was coated in fur and saliva and beaming.  "Am I allowed to go back inside, now?"  It really was chilly out in the early November air, and Shiro would prefer a jacket.   
  
"I think we're good, yeah, if you want to go wash up."   
  
That wasn't at all what Shiro wanted, but he still shot the photographer a polite smile.  "Is there anyone I should bring out next?"   
  
Pidge shook her head. "Nah, just let Hunk know we're ready for him.  He's got Sandy and Old Yeller ready to go."   
  
"Stop calling Yeller that," Shiro grumbled.  "None of my dogs are going to die.  Ever."  It was a complete lie, but one that made Shiro happier to believe.  By now, Pidge just waved him off with an indulgent eye roll.   
  
Shiro slipped inside and let out a groan as the warm air hit his skin.  "Thank god," he muttered, rubbing up and down.  "Hunk?"   
  
"My turn?"  Hunk gave a wave from the couch.  He was wearing a lab coat over scrub tops, all decorated with cartoon puppies.  With a groan, he stood from the soft cushions, picking up Sandy with him.  The terrier barely cracked open an eye at the new position.   
  
"All yours.  At least you have a coat."   
  
Hunk grinned at Shiro's outfit.  "No kidding.  I'm impressed Lance managed to get you into that."   
  
"For the dogs," Shiro repeated, which had become his mantra over the day.   
  
Smiling softly, Hunk stepped forward and patted Shiro on the back.  "Hey, you're still allowed to bow out of stuff.  No one will mind, least of all the dogs."   
  
Shiro's expression went bland.  "Because they bow wow?"   
  
"Dammit, I've used that one too much."  Hunk grinned back and soothed his hand up and down to rub warmth back into his skin.  "Now, I prescribe a nice long session on the couch with some warm dogs for you."   
  
"You're a vet, you can't diagnose me."   
  
Hunk rolled his eyes and shook his head.  "Take the excuse.  Once you're warm, you might want to play with Bluebell a little.  I think Lance wants to use her for his shoot, and she'll need to get rid of some energy first."   
  
Brows up, Shiro nodded.  "Alright.  I'll do Bluebell and someone else.  Lance is still pretending he's not going to adopt her?"  It had been going on for a month, since they'd taken Bluebell in.  Lance had immediately fallen in love with the poodle, but he still insisted he didn't want a pet yet.   
  
"I have a client who owns mice, and was looking for an older dog without much of a prey drive," Hunk said.  "I told Allura about here, and I was going to point her toward Bluebell.  She's high energy but not much into chasing, so she'd be fine.  Maybe someone else interested in Bluebell might kick Lance into gear."   
  
And if not, Bluebell would still go to a good home.  Hunk never sent along clients who wouldn't be good dog owners.  Shiro nodded agreeably.  "Sounds like a plan.  Now, you might wanna head out there while you can.  Need help with Yeller?"   
  
"No, I have it.  Yeller!"  The huge lab bounded down the stairs and sat in front of Hunk, tongue lolling out.  "See you when you're warmer."   
  
Shiro waved him off and flopped down on the couch, stretching out comfortably.  Black immediately staked her usually claim on his chest and became snoring.  He kept on eye on Lady while she delicately picked her way to her favorite dog bed and settled in.   
  
Everything was going well.  Silly, yes, but tomorrow everything would go back to normal.  Hopefully this would bring in some money and help them keep the dogs happy.   
  
Shiro was happy too.  And that counted for a lot.


	11. Ryou disappears on an ice planet and Shiro fears the worst

"Have you seen Ryou recently?" 

Shiro paused and glanced back at Lance, arms full of freshly chopped wood.   As he stood still, his feet sank deeper into the thick snow below him.  "I thought he was with you, still.  Did you lose him?"

Arms crossed, Lance frowned.  "You know, you make it sound like I'm his keeper.  It's not my job to keep an eye on him."

"You both kind of alternate who's keeping who, really.  It helps when you're together, because then I just follow the chaos to you both."  Shiro's lips quirked up, but his humor quickly faded.  "Seriously, did you lose him?"

Lance shrugged.  "He was talking to one of the locals.  They started going on about the sleds they make around here, and he was getting excited but it was honestly kind of boring.  I turned around for less than five minutes to talk to the supply manager, and when I looked back he'd totally disappeared."

Shiro's grip on the wood tightened.  "I see.  How long ago was this?"

"Twenty minutes?  I figured he'd pop back up.  You know how he is, and he's really easy to overlook in this place.  On an ice planet, he's practically camouflaged."  Lance shrugged helplessly.  "I couldn't even find footsteps."  He gestured behind Shiro with a jerky wave of his arm.

Indeed, Shiro's footsteps were already fading away.  The snow continued to fall in steady, fat flakes, and the wind rolled them over, smoothing out the banks within minutes.

Dammit.

"I haven't seen him since I went to help out.  Let me drop this off and I'll help you look, alright?  Do you remember who he was talking to?"

Lance shrugged one shoulder.  "Not really, it was only a glance.  They was wearing one of those big fur coats, and they had long, dark furr.  Kinda curly.  One of the longer faces.  But, you know, that's everyone around here."

He wasn't wrong.  Shiro had thought the Ecritians looked like bears more than once since they'd responded to their distress signals.  After their storage buildings had been destroyed by the Galra, the team had offered to do what they could to restock them before the worst of winter hit.  Not exactly their most glamorous job, but good work.  

All the Galra presence had been on ships, not on land.  But several had crashed down in the woods, so it wouldn't be too strange to think a Galra or two had survived, and had managed to sneak up and grab Ryou while he was distracted.  Or maybe not everyone on this planet was as against the Galra as it had seemed-

No, Shiro was getting ahead of himself.  Ryou could hold his own in a fight, even when surprised.  There was no reason to think he was hurt.

There was also no reason to think he was safe.

Shiro let out a sigh and nodded.  "We'll ask around, see if anyone saw him.  Let's go."  He stalked through the snow as best he could, until he could hand off the wood to one of the Ecritians managing the new supply stocks.  Then, Shiro followed Lance along to the closest cluster of buildings, where he'd last seen Ryou.

Asking around the other paladins turned up nothing.  Hunk, Keith, and Pidge were off using their lions to help gather more stone and ore.  Allura and Coran had been speaking with the Ecritian elder on the subject of alliances and further aid.  Only Shiro, Lance, and Ryou had started helping with the most local efforts, and Shiro had been off in the woods at the time.

"Should we use the castle?" Lance asked, glancing back at where it towered over the one-story cabins the Ecritians mostly preferred.  "It can pull him up quickly."

But that required Coran or Allura, which meant interrupting the talks.  Shiro considered, then shook his head.  "No, not yet.  It's likely Ryou just wandered off to see something interesting and got distracted.  I don't want to interrupt the talks just to find out he's learning how to construct sleds the Ecritian way."

Lance winced, then nodded.  "Yeah.  Ask around, then?"

There really wasn't a better option.  "We'll split up for that, I think.  Have your helmet on, and meet back up here in half an hour.  If we haven't heard anything, or we've found signs of fair play, we'll use the castle."

"Sounds good to me."  Lance help up his thumb, already looking around.  "He'll turn up, right?  And if he is captured, pity on whoever tried."

Shiro's lips quirked up.  "Do you mean from his arm or his mouth?"

Eyes warm, Lance clapped him on the arm.  "Both.  He's fine.  I just want to find him, alright?  You're both pretty self-sufficient, and this isn't the first ice planet he's survived."

"I know, he hasn't stopped joking about it since we got here."  Shiro's smile tightened slightly.  What if Ryou had gone into the woods and had a flashback, and lost track of where he was?  What if he'd gotten hurt, not from an enemy, but just from the natural environment?

Lance squeezed his arm again, eyes searching his face.  "C'mon, let's go drag him away from whatever project distracted him."

"Yeah."  Shiro managed a thin smile.  "He'll turn up."

With that, they split apart.  It was gratifyingly simple for Shiro to ask if anyone had seen Ryou.  He just had to ask 'have you seen me but colored white?' and that about covered it.  The first few Ecritians were all negatives, which wasn't a surprise.  Everyone was frantically working to re-supply as much as possible before the sun dipped too low, so they were all busy.  The paladins stood out, but Lance had pointed out that Ryou blended better than most.  If someone wasn't paying attention, he could probably walk around without drawing notice.

The fourth, however, paused.  They squinted and tilted their head, making the braids in their thick fur sway and bounce off each other.  "I may have.  I admit, I am not well familiar with you all.  You seem very similar to my eyes, with your short fur.  It's worse when you wear your helmets."

Shiro resisted the urge to reach up and touch his own hair.  "I understand.  But even if you're mistaken, I appreciate the help."

"Alright."  They lifted one huge paw, pointing down the lane.  "I think I saw one of your paladins in pale armor walking with Revisha.  Judging the way they were going, it might have been toward his home."

Shiro nodded, chest lightening with hope.  "Thank you very much.  Which building is Revisha's?  And-"  He paused and glanced back at where he'd seen Lance last.  "Do they do anything with sleds?  Craft them, maybe?"

The Ecritian let out a deep series of rolling growls.  Shiro froze, unsure if he'd offended somehow, but then he realized it was essentially laughter.  "Oh, I'd say she does, yes.  If you go past the curve, it's the house with the large shed in the back.  I wish you luck in finding your litter-mate."

Not an accurate description of Ryou, but Shiro nodded.  "Thank you so much for your help.  It's very appreciated."  Shiro offered him a quick smile and a nod, and got a slow nod back.  Then he started off at a jog, pushing awkwardly through the thick snow.

It wasn't difficult at all to spot the right house.  As Shiro rounded the corner, there was only one with a shed behind it.  It was nearly big enough to count as another house, and looked well maintained.  

Shiro made a beeline toward it, then paused when he heard a voice.

"How old are they, again?"

Identical to Shiro's own voice, slightly distorted by the wind and distance.

Ryou.  Who was apparently fine.

Relief flooded Shiro as every horror story he'd cooked up in his head faded away.

It was almost immediately followed by anger.

Stomping his way through the snow, Shiro rounded the house and headed to the back.  "Ryou!"  He called, voice rising like a wolf's howl before the hunt.  "Did you seriously wander off during a mission?"

There was a long pause, then a quiet, "oh shit."

Shiro's lips pulled back as he finally came to the backyard of the cabin.  He spotted Ryou immediately, sitting near waist-deep in a snow drift, with what had to be Revisha looming over his back.  Storming forward, he full prepared to lay into his brother-

Only to finally spot the shock and dismay on Ryou's face.

"No, Shiro, don't look!  Turn around, stop it!"  He dove forward, trying to curl around something in the snow.  

Instinctively, Shiro stopped and looked down, trying to see what Ryou was protecting.  As he focused, he could see several fuzzy, grey bodies jostling between Ryou's arms.  One turned to face him, beady black eyes blinking up at him from a tiny, fluffy face with two tall, triangular ears.

The Ecritians looking so much like bears had been a shock, but not totally out of the ordinary.

But this animal was a dead ringer for a husky puppy.

"Shiro!"  Ryou whined.  "Why are you like this?  I said look away!"

"Is that a dog?"

Ryou groaned and flopped on his back in the snow.  "You're the worst.  I wasn't even gone for thirty minutes."

"You were gone for nearly forty-five," Shiro corrected immediately.  "And you didn't tell Lance, and he went to get me.  Why are there- seriously, is that a dog?"

"I believe your surprise has been spoiled," Ravisha informed Ryou, openly amused at his dramatics.  "You are Shiro, yes?  Your litter-mate said the same thing.  The Rusks are not native to our lands, but an import several generations ago.  It is possible it is indeed this 'dog'."

As if in a daze, Shiro watched the four toddly, fat, fluffy husky puppies flop over each other and attempt to climb Ryou's armor.  One tried to scale his chest plate, only to go tumbling back into the snow.  Other decided it wasn't worth the effort, and instead started to step onto Ryou's face.

"Hey, I'm moping.  Cut it out."  Ryou picked the puppy up under the legs and finally sat up.  He settled the fuzzball in his lap, where it immediately flopped onto its back and spread its paws for belly scratches.  "I was going to bring you here and tell you it was for some bullshit mission thing you needed to see.  But you ruined the surprise, you jackass.  Now come hug a puppy, already."

Shiro wandered over as if in a daze and sank to his knees in the snow.  One of the puppies glanced back at him, curious, so Shiro held out his hand.  The puppy gave it an interested sniff, then held still as Shiro began to pet.

Slowly, Shiro looked back over at Ryou, who now looked smug.  "It's a puppy."

"Sure is, bro."  Ryou jerked his thumb back to Ravisha.  "Apparently they're used to pull sleds in certain conditions.  And in competitions. Space Iditarod.  Ravisha breeds them.  The ones best suited to work get trained for mushing, and the others get sold as pets.  These are some rejects.  Aren't you a little reject?  Aren't you second place?  Yes, you are.  Yes, you are!"

Shiro blinked at Ryou, his lips curling up.  "I finally understand why Keith gets so weirded out when I see a dog.  You sound like an idiot."

"Guess whose fault that is?"

Shrugging, Shiro scooped up one of the puppies and held it close.  It squirmed immediately, turning closer to inspect his face curiously.  "I appreciate the attempt at a surprise.  But how about next time you just tell me there's dogs on the comm, so I don't have to worry and I can come running immediately."

Ryou rolled his eyes.  "Noted.  I will never attempt to do something nice for you again.  My apologies that you're such a helicopter parent."  Then he glanced up at Ravisha and offered a smile.  "Thanks for helping, though.  It would have been awesome."

"It seems to have gone well, as I see it," Ravisha replied, nodding to Shiro.  "He looks like a mother with her new cubs, just as you did."

"Thank you so much."  Ryou huffed, but turned to Shiro and smiled.  "I know we can't do this for long, since, well, mission and all.  But these dogs are for sale."

Shiro froze completely. "That- there's so much logistics to think about.  Where they'd stay.  If Allura is alright with that.  How we'd feed them, how we'd clean up after them-"

"We have a cow," Ryou reminded.  He scooped up a handful of loose snow and threw it at Shiro.  "A dog can't be harder to take care of than a cow.  Let's at least ask."

"We'll ask," Shiro agreed.  He held the dog in his arms closer, eyes falling shut as the tiny tongue flicked over his jaw.  "Oh.   _ Oh." _

There was a long pause, as Ryou gave him the moment without comment.

A dog.  A real dog, out in space.  It had been years, and Shiro hadn't thought much of it.  He'd had a vague idea of getting a dog when he came back, but it had always been a silly daydream.  With his schedule and the fact that he specialized in deep space missions, keeping a pet wasn't possible. 

Instead, he'd taken moments where he could.  The Holt's dog Baebae always loved when he visited, and Shiro volunteered at the local pet shelter once every month or so.  Sometimes, when he went into town, he'd go on a run in the park and greet every dog he saw on the path.

That had been enough, until Shiro had gone years without.

"Hey," Ryou suddenly said, voice soft and gentle.  "Promise me something?"

Shiro opened his eyes and managed to focus on Ryou.  He swallowed hard against a lump in his throat.  "What?"

"When we get back to Earth, get a dog."

A quick wipe of his fingers over his eyes got rid of any threatening moisture.  "You know that's not possible."

Ryou moved closer, till their shoulders were touching.  He glanced up at Ravisha, gaze pleading.  She nodded and stepped over to the shed, disappearing inside.

Once she was gone, Ryou turned to Shiro.  "I know why it was before," he replied.  "But if we finally go home, everything will be different.  So promise me."

"What if I take another mission for the Galaxy Garrison?  I'm still an officer, and I still owe them a few years of service from academy training."  The puppy in Shiro's lap finally squirmed to get down.  He settled them back into the snow, where they immediately toddled over and collapsed against a litter-mate's side.  "Like I said.  Logistics.  Is that fair for the dog?"

Ryou groaned.  "You can make it fair if you choose to.  But the point isn't- I want me to promise you'll do it anyway.  And that you'll go home to Earth, someday.  That you'll plan for that day.  Just promise me that."

Oh.  Ryou didn't specifically want Shiro to get a puppy - or, maybe he did.  But mostly he wanted Shiro to actually think he'd see the future.

That was-

Unlikely.

"Ryou," Shiro murmured.  "It's war.  I can't promise anything."

"Yes, you can," Ryou pushed on.  "I know the bullshit in your head, and it's exactly that.  Bullshit.  You're more than this war.  You don't look at anyone else on the team and think they're made for nothing more than fighting the Galra,  Even if it takes longer than their lifetimes, they have a right to retire if they want to.  You believe they'll survive."

Shiro's eyes cut over to Ryou.  "What about you?  Do you think you'll live?"

Ryou managed a thin smile.  "Depends on how I'm made, isn't it?  Who knows what the lifespan of a Shiro Clone is.  Maybe I age in dog years.  Woof."  He scooped up one of the puppies and held them up so their faces were side by side.  "We can take bets on who'll last longer."

For a moment, Shiro only stared.  Then he reached around and punched Ryou on the side where there wasn't a dog.  "Hypocrite."

"I have a good reason," Ryou whined.  "Better than you."  He set the dog down to rub his side.  "Ow.  Through the armor, too. Jeez."

"If I have to plan for the future, so do you," Shiro replied.  "You don't get to preach at me when you're just as bad."

Ryou huffed.  "I should get to if I want to."  But he sighed and set his jaw.  "Fine.  We'll keep each other honest.  But you have to do it.  No more acting like you'll die in a few weeks.  If nothing else, you're stressing Keith out with that shit.  You're going to give the poor guy an ulcer.  Cut it out."

That-

Was probably not inaccurate.

Shiro's lips twisted as he nodded.  "Fine.  That doesn't mean I'll get a dog when we get to Earth.  Or now."

"But they're so cuuute."  Ryou pecked the top of a fuzzy, gray head.  The puppy glanced up at Ryou and let out a curious noise that wanted to be a howl but was really more of a squeak.

Which was, indeed, very cute.

"I'll ask.  That's not a promise!"  Shiro pointed to Ryou.  "Don't blame me if it doesn't work out."

Ryou nodded solemnly.  "I won't."  But then he broken into a smile.  "But I'm going to make it really hard to say no."  Then he dove for his helmet, nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the snowdrifts.  "Guys!  They have husky puppies.  Actual husky dogs.  Here!"

Oh, boy.

Immediately, there was pandemonium as the rest of the Earth-natives immediately began to demand the chance to see them.

Shiro glared at Ryou, who only beamed back.  'I'll make you pay for this," he mouthed, but it didn't dent Ryou's smile.

As Shiro prepared to be the reluctant adult in this situation, so that Allura wasn't immediately buried under an avalanche of demands the moment talks were done, he glanced at his brother.

His brother, who was seeing a dog for the first time in his life, technically.

...Have a dog on the ship wouldn't be so bad, really.


	12. Smol Shiro is worried about this whole Santa thing

"Mr. Coran?" 

Coran glanced down at the tug to his shirt.  Below him stood Shiro, who currently came up to his waist.

It was odd to see the normally tallest and eldest paladin so small.  At this age, humans did not develop the broadness they could later in life, so he was a short, skinny child with huge, grey eyes.  The white forelock stood up lightly, mused and ruffled, and his metal hand was tucked into his jacket pocket.

All in all, he looked very vulnerable and very cute, though Coran felt slightly bad for thinking so.  Shiro would not appreciate being in this state, though he couldn't understand it at this time.  It was unfortunate, too, that he was in this state for an important human holiday such as their Christ Mass.

"Yes, my boy?"  Coran turned and sank down, so he was sitting on the back of his heels.  It didn't quite bring him to Shiro's current height, but it was close.  "Did you need something?"

Shiro looked back over his shoulder, biting down hard on his bottom lip.  Then he scooted in closer, looking nervous.  "Can I ask you something?"

Concern churned in Coran's stomach.  What had this boy so worried?  "Of course you may.  Anything at all."

"Um, it's just..."  Shiro looked down at this sock-clad fight, wiggling his toes as if to stall.  "I was just wondering something, is all.  You know how Lance 'n Pidge 'n Hunk were all excited about Santa Claus?"

Oh, boy.  Coran may not be the right person for this query.  He freely admitted that he couldn't make hide or hair of the Earth traditions.  Something about fluffy red hats and strange cloven creatures and a man breaking into homes to eat sweets.  "I'm aware of what they've said.  We don't have a Santa on Altea, though, so I don't know much about him."

Eyes wide, Shiro nodded.  "Yeah!  That's what I mean.  They were talking about how he comes, but I don't think he's ever come to  _ my _ house.  And Princess Allura said that he didn't come to Altea either!  So if he can't come to my house, and he can't come to your house, I don't think he goes to everyone the way they think."

Coran considered, rubbing over his chin thoughtfully.  From the way those three had been speaking, he suspected Santa was more of a figure of legend than an actual man.  But did he say that to such a young child, on the cusp of being rewarded for good behavior?  "I admit, I'm not sure.  But this Santa is magical, in much the same way as the lions and the castle.  Perhaps the reason he did not come to you was that you did not invoke the correct ritual where you were from.  The drinks, baked goods, and vegetation seem essential to his arrival.  Have you spoken to Keith on the subject?"

Biting his bottom lip again, Shiro shrugged.  "A little.  He said I should just listen to the others, 'cause he didn't know."  He shuffled closer again, and cupped a little hand to his mouth.  "I don't think Santa came to Keith either.  And Keith is the  _ best _ in the whole world!  If Santa doesn't come to him, I don't think he's very good at this."

Oh, goodness.  Coran was going to have to repeat that to Keith at some point.  Preferably in a few days, when they had Shiro's situation fixed.  Their mutual embarrassment would be very entertaining.  "I see.  You are worried you won't receive gifts?"

"No," Shiro replied, staring at Coran as if he'd completely lost the plot.  "I don't care about that.  I have lots of toys, and Keith 'n Lance put up light up stars in my room.  Really bright ones, not like the ones at home!  And they shine and they're really, really cool.  I don't need Santa.  But when he doesn't come, everyone else is going to be so  _ sad." _

Coran closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Even at six years old, Shiro was still worried that his friends would be upset, rather than himself.

He took in Shiro's face, from the wrinkle on his brow and the tense set of his jaw.   The bright light of worry in this eyes, which looked so big on his young face.  Then, Coran decided to fix that.

"Well," Coran finally replied.  "Perhaps Santa will not.  But the others don't need to know that, do they?"

Shiro shook his head, lips pulling down further.  "They'll know, though!  When they wake up and there's no presents, they'll be able to tell, won't they?"

Placing a finger on his lips, Coran winked.  "Not if we put presents out and say Santa brought them."

Shiro gasped, one hand clapping over his mouth.  "We could be Santa," he breathed, totally awed.  "That's perfect!"  With that, he jolted forward and wrapped his skinny little arms around Coran's chest.  He impacted with a shocking amount of force for such a small being.  "Thank you, Mr. Coran!"

"No problem at all," Coran replied.  He carefully wrapped Shiro in a hug, careful not to use too much strength.  Humans seemed to breakable when they weren't so tiny.  It was all too possible for Coran to crush Shiro in his current state.

With one last powerful squeeze, Shiro backed away.  "But that's tomorrow!  We have to get started right away."  He offered his hand, clearly expecting Coran to take it.

As if Coran could do anything but oblige.  He let Shiro grip four of his fingers with confident ease, then started down the hall.

Well and truly charmed, Coran followed along and nodded to Shiro's enthusiastic ideas.

***

On the day of Christ Mass, Coran slipped into Shiro's room and woke him early.  At first he grumbled and rolled over, muttering something unhappy and decidedly uncomplimentary.  But as soon as Coran reminded him that he needed to be Santa, Shiro was up like a shot.

They took their carefully wrapped presents and tucked them under the holographic tree.  The juxtaposition was strange, and Coran had genuinely no idea why the indoor tree was the guardian of gifts.  But Shiro declared to to be perfect around his huge yawns.

That settled, Coran half-walked, half-carried him back to bed.  He tucked him back in, and let Shiro curl up on his side, almost instantly falling back asleep.

He didn't bother to resist the urge to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.  Shiro murmured again, soft and gentle, but didn't otherwise stir.

Then, Coran set his own plans into motion.

***

"What's with the sleepy face?" Lance asked, ushering a stumbling Shiro into the rec room.  "Were you up all night trying to get a peek at Santa?"

Shiro rubbed over one eye.  "No.  M'just sleepy."  He glanced over at Coran, then hid a small smile in his shirt collar.

Lance glanced over at Coran and arched a brow in question.  But Coran just smiled back, looking perfectly put together in his own pajamas, so he let it go.  Instead, he turned to the tree.

Then froze.

There were a solid dozen more presents than were supposed to be there.

"Looks like Santa came," Hunk called, curled up around a cup of cocoa.  He offered one to Shiro, who took it with greedy abandon, and shot Lance a questioning look over his little head.

Lance shook his head back, and instead looked at Pidge, who also frowned back.  Then all three of them glanced at Keith, who wasn't paying them any mind.

Before anyone could start asking, Shiro tugged on Lance's shirt.  "Are we going to open presents, now?"

"A boy after my own heart," Pidge called.  "Go right for the presents."

Shiro squinted at her.  "Are we not supposed to?" He asked carefully.  "I don't know how to Christmas.  We never do it at my house."

Hunk ruffled Shiro's hair.  "Well, some people do breakfast first, but that's a few doors down.  So let's start with this.  You pick one out first, okay?"

With one great gulp, Shiro drank half his hot chocolate, then put it aside and practically dove into the presents pile.  If he moved through the additions with perhaps too much foreknowledge of which belonged to who, no one else seemed to notice.  Instead, they immediately turned to each other.

"Keith?" Pidge hissed.  "Those are yours?"

Keith glanced at her, then at the presents.  "Which are mine?  I thought we were just going to get Shiro a few things.  No one told me we switched it up."

"We didn't!"  Lance said.  He watched as Shiro gleefully pulled out one of the strange new presents and sat down, immediately ripping through the paper with open glee.  

"Should we be letting him open that?" Hunk asked.  "If we don't know where it's from?"

Allura held up a hand.  "The castle would automatically detect and alert us of dangers on board.  There was no sign of entry overnight."

Leaning back on the couch, Coran smiled at them all.  "Perhaps it was your Santa, yes?  Did you check for the offerings?"

"Right!" Lance moved over to the plates.  "I totally forgot.  They're-"

He paused and frowned.

There were no more cookies, the drink was gone, and the vegetation vanished.

(Coran had enjoyed all of them greatly.)

"That's-"  Lance frowned.  "I didn't do this.  Any of you?"

Keith shook his head.  "I wasn't part of any of this.  I thought it was all how you guys set it up."

Nodding, Allura gestured to Keith.  "I am unaware of what is considered normal in your holiday efforts."

"Look, someone had to do it, right?" Pidge glanced over.  "These presents didn't get here by magic."

But Hunk frowned and glanced at Coran.  "Well, normally, no.  But the castle is supposed to be at least a little magic.  We know that stuff is real."

Pidge scoffed.  "You're not actually suggesting-"

"Look!"  Shiro suddenly jammed his way into the conversation, carrying an extremely realistic, smaller model of the Black Lion.  He ran it through the air and made enthusiastic 'whoosh' noises with his mouth.  As the toy moved through the air, it reacted as if it were actually in flight - the legs shifted, the mouth opened, the wings spread.  "Look what Santa brought me!"

It was a surprisingly strong moment of acting from such a small child, at least until he shot Coran a pleased, mischievous smile.

But again, no one noticed.  Instead, they were busy exclaiming over the toy.

"I had something quite like this as a young girl," Allura informed Shiro, who listened rapturously.  "It was of Altea instead, and the rings around it would shift and rotate in time with the real ones."

Shiro nodded agreeably.  "I like this one.  It's my lion."  He beamed, still utterly prideful of his informed position as a paladin and a flyer of robot lions.

"How does this work?  Can I see that?"  Pidge reached for it, but Shiro reared back.

"No!"  He clutched his new toy to his chest.  "You have a present, get your own."

Hunk froze.  "Some of those are for us?"

"Everyone has some," Shiro replied.  "Why would Santa just come for me?"

There was a long pause, then a rush for the present pile.

As Allura and the (currently) older paladins exclaimed in excited confusion over the presents, Shiro took Coran's and handed it over.  Then he settled in on the couch next to him, still sailing his lion model through the air.  "We did a good job," he declared, watching the chaos unfold with open satisfaction.

"We did indeed."

Coran did not understand much of Earthling culture.

But he was very good at high fives, so he and Shiro shared one.

***

Later that night, Coran led Shiro back to bed for the second time that day.  This time, he was clutching several new presents under one hand, and the model Black Lion under the other.  He yawned widely and nearly walked into the door frame.  

"We did a really good job," he declared, looking to at Coran.  "Thank you for helping, Mr. Coran."

"It was very kind of you to be worried, and to want to help your friends," Coran replied.  "I was happy to help.  But I think it's time for bed."

Shiro nodded agreeably, his little head drooping on his shoulders.  "Yeah.  I was up early."  He yawned hugely, mouth open so wide that Coran could see his back teeth.  "Do you think they knew?"

Likely, someone would review security footage, or at least put two and two together.  But the magic of the evening (and inability to check) and left the day feeling decidedly magically.  Considering the humans were so often fixated on the science part of the castle and lions, Coran was pleased to see them appreciating the magical aspects.  It had also given Allura a very positive introduction to the holiday, which was always a bonus.  

Rather than work through the statistics over being discovered with such a sleepy boy, Coran smiled.  "I believe so."  Coran started to nudge him through the door, then paused and gave a huge gasp.  "When did that get there?"

"When did what get where?"  Shiro's head popped up, and he glanced around his room.  

Then he spotted the big present sitting in the middle of the bed.  There was a note pinned to the top in big block letters.

Shiro carefully dumped his haul out onto the bed, then picked up the note.  He squinted at it, then turned to hand it to Coran.  "I can't read this."

Oh, yes, he was perhaps a bit young for this.  And Coran had picked the language the paladins most often spoke and wrote in, but he was aware many of them had other languages they had learned as children.

Coran took the note and cleared his throat.  "'Young Shiro, thank you very much for your help this morning.  It was a long trip for me, so I was unable to reach the castle this morning to deliver your present.  You have more than proven you deserve this gift, and I would like to offer you the position of an honorary Santa.  The only requirement is that you swear to always keep your identity a secret.  Have a very happy Christ Mass.  Thank you again, Santa Clause.'"

Eyes wide, Shiro covered his mouth again.  "Santa came?"

"It would seem so," Coran replied.  He tucked the note in his pocket.  "Perhaps your friends were right all along.  We should have faith in them, and in their summoning rituals."

"I didn't know!"  Shiro picked up the present and ran his hands over it.  His earlier exhaustion seemed to have evaporated.  "This is all for me?"

Coran smiled.  "I agree with Santa.  You have more than met the criteria, and so you deserve your reward.  Open it."

With one more awed look, Shiro tore open the present, and pulled out the orb inside.  He held it up and rolled it in his hands.  "It's... I don't know."  He set it in his lap and rolled it over, until he finally spotted the button on the bottom.

The whole thing lit up in sparks of light that lit the walls of his room.  It showed tapestries of color, depicting stories of knighthood, paladins battles, and heroism (all age appropriate).

"Oh!"  Shiro looked around the room, his face painted with the projected lights.  For a long moment, he just watched, stunned into silence.  "Wow.  Oh,  _ wow." _

"Happy Christ Mass, Honorary Santa."

Shiro nodded, still dazed.  "Merry Christmas, Mr. Coran.  You think you have a present waiting in your room, too?"

"I assume so," Coran lied easily.  "I believe I'll leave you to yours and see what mine is."

"Thank you again!"  Shiro waved, but his eyes were on the moving, stylized images.  He watched with glee as the forms of Alfor and Zarkon, clad in red and black armor, fought together against a horde of enemies.  

Coran closed the door behind him and smiled.

Honorary Santa indeed.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Snow Angels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13903275) by [BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster), [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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